Putting it BackTogether
by AtlantisJoeFan
Summary: A sequel to my story 'Falling to Pieces', this continues the tale of John Sheppard and Doctor Catherine Adams. It was her first visit off world for some time and it seemed like a routine mission. Little did they know what was about to go wrong. New ed.
1. Chapter 1

_**Rating is T – sometimes more adult themes and suggestion of torture  
Summary: Romance, angst and emotional whump for John Sheppard and now established O/C  
Season: Season 5, post Inquisition and Remnants  
Spoilers: Season 5 generally  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Though John Sheppard is in my guilty imagination**_

_**A/N: - This is a follow up to my stories Maybe This Time, The Aftermath and Falling to Pieces. Some references are made to events in these stories.**_

_This is a continuation of the John Sheppard and Cat Adams story. There will be plenty of anguish and emotional whump in this one. I'm always ready to put our John through the ringer. Expect some scenes of a mildly sexual nature and some suggestions of torture._

A year ago when Catherine Adams first stepped through the Atlantis gate, she could not have imagined what was to come. At 40, she had more or less resigned herself to being single and thought she was happy with her own company. Men had always been easy to come by on a casual basis, but for many years she had avoided any relationship more long term than a few nights. Capable of looking very pretty when she tried, a prettiness that was becoming more sophisticated as she headed into her fourth decade, most of the time she had hidden her looks to avoid unnecessary attention. In her teens, her long blonde hair and curvaceous body meant that she was always the centre of male attraction, but there had been very few men in her life that had touched her heart. She had tried marriage, mostly pressurised by her parents to marry well as a means to raise their social status. Her father and mother ran their own successful, in a small way, business and he father's main imperative in life was social climbing. The wedding had been grand and the honeymoon expensive, but the marriage had been a disaster, her then husband much more interested in the younger men who worked for him than his headstrong and independent wife. Neither could he understand her need to pursue her career. In his world women had babies and 'lunched'. So, she escaped the marriage fairly quickly and he settled enough on her to allow her to start afresh in America. Her work with Classical archiving and her knowledge of a range of ancient languages soon drew the attention of the Stargate program and now she was chief archivist on Atlantis.

John Sheppard had turned her nice contained world upside down. From the moment she first saw him, she had been besotted, and the schoolgirl crush had developed into a deep and lasting love, which he more than reciprocated. The last year and a half had not been entirely plain sailing, but they were stronger than ever and looking forward to the wedding that neither of them had thought to experience again. Cat loved every bit of him. Physically, he was the most attractive man she had ever met, with his dark tousled hair, come to bed hazel (or were they green?) eyes and full lips which pouted more than any man's should. Then, there were the strong muscled arms covered in soft dark hair, the long legs and strong thighs and toned torso, all of which she could gladly claim as her own. And there were other parts of his body which were only suggested through his clothes that she knew to be magnificent. She took great pleasure these days in watching the admiring glances of other women, knowing that he only had eyes for her.

Tonight, she was waiting nervously in 'her' corner of the control room. Chuck had radioed her when SGA1 were late, knowing that she would want to take up her usual station. This was her secret: John had enough to worry about without having to consider her nervous wait and she wouldn't burden him with her fears. The wormhole flashed blue and the welcome sound of 'Colonel Sheppard's IDC' and 'lower the shield' echoed around the gate room. A very tired team staggered through, but looked unharmed and unhurt. Cat silently withdrew, able to breathe properly for the first time in several hours.

He would never have guessed that she had been anywhere but in bed that night. She had a quick escape route back to their quarters, knowing that he would have to go to the armoury and the tack room at the very least. On bad nights, there was a visit to the infirmary too. Tonight, he crawled stiffly into bed behind her, put his arms around her, nestled into her neck and, kissing her, fell immediately into an exhausted sleep. Comforted at last, she joined him. She could wait for a more physical demonstration of his safe return in the morning.

Morning with John was probably her favourite time. In the private time before he donned his black BDUs and became Atlantis' military commander, she had discovered how little sleep he needed: seemingly exhausted and dead on his feet after a tiring mission, he could collapse into bed, but wake up refreshed and alert after just a few hours. Today was no exception. She woke to his strong arms wrapped around her, large hands stroking her stomach in sensual circular movements. His body was taught and pressed into her, clearly revealing his need. For a while, she pretended to be asleep as he peppered her neck and shoulders with little kisses. After a few minutes, she shuffled her hips towards him, just enough for him to register that she was awake, then she turned round to kiss him and show how much she, too, wanted him. Sex with John was incredible. She reached peaks of pleasure with him that she didn't know were possible and from the satisfied and replete look on his face she was pretty sure that he felt the same way. This morning was especially passionate and, not for the first time he was in serious danger of being late. In a rush, he had a shower and again she had to watch his fabulous body disappear into his black uniform, the only one in the city with the knowledge that their commander was wearing pink boxers covered with tiny hearts.

She set off for the cafeteria about fifteen minutes after him, knowing that he would probably not be there when she arrived. Ronon was there with Amelia, and Teyla was trying to feed Torren John. The boy was now a sparky and energetic toddler with a wicked grin and the ability to get into all sorts of trouble. He gave Teyla the run-around and, had Cat known for sure that he was not John's, she might have believed some of the city gossip, so alike was he to his 'uncle'. This morning, he was fully intent on escaping his high chair, and on not eating the breakfast she was trying to feed him. Uncle Ronon was having no more success, but since his idea of helping was along the lines of, 'eat boy, or else' it was not really surprising. The toddler had no fear and simply chuckled at the big man, eliciting a toothy and affectionate smile.

'Morning all,' she said lightly. 'And how are we all today?' Teyla smiled a tired smile, Ronon grunted and Amelia said 'good morning' back, then they settled into a companionable silence, punctuated by the delighted squeals of Torren. Yes, Cat loved mornings on Atlantis and this one was particularly exciting. She was going off-world to a planet called Incana. Lorne and his team had reported that there were some interesting remains there, and she was looking forward to some field work. These days, she didn't get much chance and she suspected that John had something to do with it. He hated her leaving Atlantis and worried for every second she was away. She felt it was a bit rich, given the worry he caused her, but knew what battles to fight, so she had primed Lorne to 'look out' for any artefacts that would give her a reason to investigate. Lorne had over-exaggerated how important it was that Atlantis' chief archivist should visit the site and John had finally acquiesced. She must remember to thank Evan next time she saw him: a few of John's precious beers might find their way to his fridge!

The only way John would allow her off-world, if not with him, was with Lorne's team. He trusted his 2ic and knew that he would look after her. He fussed over her kit, making sure that her tack vest was fully equipped and that her hand gun was in the best condition. She almost expected him to hand her a little metal lunchbox with a picture of 'My Little Pony' on it! The walk at the other end was not far, so they didn't need a jumper. Just before she entered the blue shimmer of the wormhole, she turned and waved up at John, who was standing at the top of the stairs and he waved back, forcing a smile.

TBC

_There is emotional whump to come for John. Please, R and R if you want more!_


	2. Chapter 2

Incana was a wet and miserable planet, just one of the many in the galaxy where the sun refused to shine through a dense canopy of trees. Cat thought that it would have been nice to visit just one planet where the sun shone. The site was not too far, about 2 miles from the gate and they arrived before midday. Lorne had been right that this place was interesting. Large standing stones circled the clearing. Most were still upright, and in the centre was what looked like a tomb. He and his team took up their positions, though to be honest the only danger she could see were the slightly larger than usual squirrel like creatures who chattered from the tree tops. Lorne had made his CO a promise and took his responsibilities very seriously, remaining on constant alert. There were a few interesting and portable relics which were quickly catalogued and packed away for further investigation later and then, regrettably, she had to admit that she was finished and it was time to go. Such trips had been few and far between for her and, even with one so uneventful, she was not willing for it to end so soon.

It all happened so suddenly. A flash of a stunner from the trees heralded the attack. Lieutenant Eddison was down, quickly followed by the young marine Masters. Within minutes, several large men in green/grey uniforms crashed into them, the biggest hitting Lorne on the back of the head with his gun, knocking him out cold. Cat had been near enough to the tomb to wriggle inside it, praying that she hadn't been seen. Unprepared for the attack, her gun was still strapped to her thigh, and in the narrow space she couldn't reach it. John would have a go at her about that one, especially after all her training. From her vantage point she could see that Lorne and Eddison were out cold, then heard rather than saw a scuffle, a muffled shout then a deep voice called her name.

'Doctor Adams? I know you are here. Come out now and I will preserve this soldier's life, otherwise I _will_ kill her.' How did he know her name? Cat shuffled slightly to one side and peered through a small gap in the stone. The large man had a gun against the head of the last conscious member of Lorne's team, a young female sergeant who Cat rather liked. When she failed to respond, he pressed the gun further into the young woman's head and Cat could see the fear in her eyes. What would John do? No brainer, he would give himself up to save a colleague.

'I'm here,' she shouted, 'I'm in the tomb and I'm coming out now.'

She faced their attackers. 'Wise decision, Doctor. Take off your outer clothing and drop all your weapons,' he ordered. She slowly undid her tack vest, and dropped the hand gun to the ground. 'Now, on your knees and hands behind your back.' Rough hands grasped her shoulders and pushed her down, tying her hands behind her back, and wrapped a foul smelling cloth around her mouth. The next thing that happened was the single most horrific event that she had ever witnessed. He fired his gun point blank at the young sergeant. Blood and brains hit the ground before her body crumpled. Cat's senses reeled at the horror she had witnessed, but before she could let out a muffled scream she felt a sharp crack on the back of her head and the world disappeared into darkness.

***

John had not left the control room that morning. It was now 1400 hours and Lorne was due to check in. He could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. When the time came and passed, his anxiety levels continued to rise. It was Atlantis policy to wait for an hour after a designated check in time, before taking further action. John silently thanked Woolsey for this latest directive. In Elizabeth's day, he and his team were quite often 3 or 4 hours late and nobody had worried. On the other hand, Elizabeth understood gut feelings or 'intuition' as she called it, and she was quite capable of acting on it, sending a rescue team out at the merest sense of danger. He remembered several occasions when he was alive because she followed her instincts.

Richard Woolsey watched his military commander with a frown. The man would wear a groove in the floor if he carried on pacing. He was not overly concerned yet. One of his first acts as commander was to put in place a series of protocols to cover most situations. Ironically, he had probably already broken more of them than he had created in the time he had been here, but then 'here' was unique. He remembered Sheppard's greeting to him after the incident with the 'hive' virus. 'Welcome to the Pegasus Galaxy' in Sheppard speak, was 'welcome to a world where normal rules can't and don't exist.' He glanced at his watch. The hour was almost up and Sheppard was standing expectantly at the door of his office. He had already readied McKay, Teyla and Ronon and had put on his own tack vest and armed up.

'Well, do I have a go? The hour is up and they haven't checked in.'

'You have a go, Colonel. Take your team and a backup of marines. I'm sure they have just been delayed,' he added as an afterthought.

Within 10 minutes, they were stepping through Incana's gate. He would have chuckled if he had known how closely his thoughts echoed Cat's. 'Everywhere you go in this galaxy, it's wet, cold and covered with green forest.'

'Rodney? Life signs?'

'Three. About 2 miles south west,' replied Rodney.

'Three? Are you sure? There should be five. ' A sick tightness started to creep across John's chest.

'Yes', said Rodney quietly, not daring to say out loud what they all knew. Somewhere not very far away were either two dead bodies or two missing people.

'Right, follow me.' Led by John, the team set off at a sprint.

In the clearing were four prostrate bodies. Lorne was stirring, as was Masters. Ronon took Eddison's pulse. 'He's alive.' Blood from the young female sergeant had spattered the stones around her body. Rodney tried not be sick. He could never get used to this, never. And, where was Cat?

John ran over to Lorne. 'What happened, Major? Who did this? Where's Cat?'

Fuzzy with concussion, all Lorne could tell John was that they had been attacked, he had seen Eddison and Masters go down, then couldn't remember anything else after that. Shocked, he glanced in the direction of the dead soldier, quickly taking in the scene. 'They shot her point blank?'

'It would appear so, Major. I'm sorry. Ronon, get her dog tags please? Teyla, any sign of what happened here?'

'Well, there is a tack vest and hand gun here. I am assuming that these are Cat's. There is little sign of a struggle, although it looks as though someone was kneeling here and the marks in the ground suggest they hit the ground heavily, or were forced. I'm sorry, John. It appears that she has been taken.'

John grimaced, trying to hold onto his centre of calm by using his military training. 'Ronon, any sign of tracks? Can you tell which direction they went?'

Ronon scouted the area for a few minutes. 'They left in the direction of the gate. Five men, I would say. One is much heavier than the others, or he is carrying something'. He looked anxiously at his friend. 'If they were heading back to the gate, they could already have gated off the planet. We should get back there quickly.'

'Agreed. Teyla, you stay here with two of the marines. Ronon and Mckay, and you two come with me. We'll call for a medical and a retrieval team, then Rodney can go about harvesting the gate for the last few dial-outs. Keep in radio contact and report every 10 minutes.'

A sad and tired group returned through the Atlantis gate. Lorne and Masters were walking wounded, but Eddison was still out cold. The body bag was quickly spirited away, too bloody a reminder of the scene back on the planet. John would find time later to write the obligatory letter. He had sadly had far too much practice recently. Rodney had harvested the last fifty or so gate addresses from the Incanan gate, and they would try each one, but no-one really expected success. Whoever the attackers were, it was clearly well-planned and they were long since gone. Lorne had been able to tell them very little, although John's first thoughts had been 'Genii'. It had the familiar stink of a Genii operation. It seemed a distinct possibility that Cat was the target and he tried to dispel the fears that were beginning to grow about why they would do this, memories of his own capture and torture at the hands of Kolya still fresh in his mind, despite being more than two years ago.

John was slumped in one of the easy chairs in Woolsey's office, his head in his hands. He hadn't said a word since his initial business like report. Teyla and Ronon looked on, unable to help and not knowing what to say or do. Teyla had placed her had gently on his shoulder, the only comfort she had to give. Rodney didn't really 'do' emotional scenes and he was co-ordinating the search from the floor of the gate room. The silence was punctuated by the frequent whoosh of the gate as they continued to trawl through the list of dialled gates. Every now and then, John would look up in response, anguish written all over his handsome face making him appear ten years older, then he would put his head back into his hands. Woolsey sat at his desk, grimacing at the irony that there were no protocols that allowed him to deal with this situation.

Suddenly, the gate started to dial. 'Unauthorised off-world activation' came the shout from the gate technicians. John jumped up and ran to the balcony rail. 'Any IDC, Chuck?'

Chuck shook his head. 'No sir. No, wait a minute. Incoming transmission on an old video link. This is very familiar, sir. It is just like the one we received from Kolya.'

From behind him, John heard the whispered utterance from Teyla. 'Oh, no. It can't be. Not again.'

TBC

_Can you guess what's coming next? Please R&R and let me know what you think._


	3. Chapter 3

She was cold. The floor was hard and she had been left with nothing to keep her warm. Her head throbbed and her hands ached where they had been pulled behind her, although mercifully someone had untied her. It seemed to be dark, although there was no real way of knowing, and she was hungry and thirsty. Memories flooded back and she saw again the dark red blood of the soldier and the look of sheer terror on her face. Shivering with the cold and with fear, she began to sob. She couldn't imagine, didn't want to imagine, what they wanted with her. All she knew was that they knew her name, and that couldn't be good. She tried to imagine what John would do in this situation, then had to avoid thinking about him again for fear about where such thoughts might take her.

'Keep calm, Cat. You don't know what they want. Maybe they just want me to activate some Ancient artefacts? Yes, that must be it. What other value can I have?' she thought. Apart from being Colonel Sheppard's woman? John had warned her about The Genii, that there were certain factions wanting revenge and since the inquisition there had been rumours of a growing Genii military strength. If they were intending to use her to get at him...?

The door swung open and two large uniformed soldiers grabbed her roughly by the arms.

'Where are you taking me?' she screamed as she struggled against them. 'I won't go. Leave me alone!' and she kicked and struggled with all her might. Her head snapped to one side as a large fist hit her cheek bone and she heard a loud crack, them a punch to her stomach winded her and she doubled up. She was blindfolded and gagged and, struggling with the pain, she felt herself being dragged along rough stone floors, snagging her skin through her cotton trousers and leaving a bloody trail. Blind and mute, and semi-conscious, she heard the iron door clang open, then felt the cold chair she had been forced into. Strong straps were fastened around her and her hands tied to the arms of the chair, palms down. There was a metallic smell in the air and a gentle humming sound which was very familiar.

'Do you know where you are, Doctor? No? Well, let me tell you before you die. You are in a Genii prison awaiting your execution. Do you recognise the chair? Oh, yes, I can see from your struggling that you do. Don't worry, the electricity will kill you almost immediately, although I have been told that you may not be so pretty afterwards. Why are you here, I should imagine you are wondering? Well, we are about to contact your dear husband to be on Atlantis. He is about to witness your death. No doubt he will try to do the brave thing: offer himself up in your place, but let me tell you now not to get your hopes up. I have no intention of letting you go. I don't want anything in return. That was Commander Kolya's mistake. No, this is revenge pure and simple. I thought you should like to know for what you die. You are Colonel Sheppard's punishment for his crimes against the Genii. He will lose the one thing that he loves the most and he will have to watch you die knowing that he can do nothing to save you. Dial up the video link.'

***

An unfamiliar face in a familiar uniform appeared on the screen in front of them. He was an ugly man, with a scarred face that showed the marks of many battles.

'Is Colonel Sheppard there? I wish to talk to him. My name is Commander Syldan of the Genii. I have something here of interest to him.'

Woolsey nodded to Chuck to open a channel.

'Sheppard here,' John tried to sound casual. 'What can I do for you?' then he gasped as Syldan stood to one side. Strapped into what was clearly an electric chair was Cat. She was gagged and blindfolded, but even from here he could see how frightened she was. 'What have you done to her? Let me speak to her? Let her speak to me?' he pleaded.

Syldan's face cracked into an evil grin. 'Oh, no, Colonel, not this time. She will never speak to you again.'

'Look, Syldan. I don't know what offence you think she has committed, but I'm sure we can sort this out. I would be a greater prize for you to capture. Take me instead. Tell me where you are and I can be there straight away if you just let her go.' John was desperate and he couldn't keep the edge from his voice.

'No, Sheppard. There is no exchange here. This is not a ransom situation. This is your punishment for your crimes against the Genii. One death is not much for fifty, but I feel that this is a death that will punish you for the rest of your life. You may say some last words to your dear lady here, but she will not be allowed to speak to you. Better be quick. You have one minute.'

John steadied his voice as best as he could. 'Cat, my darling. If you can hear me, know that I love you with all my heart. Stay strong. Remember, we don't leave our people behind. There is always hope. You will be with me forever and...'

Sylvan cut him off with a 'That's enough'. Then, he nodded to the soldier on his right. A switch was pressed, a humming and sizzling sound, then John watched in horror as Cat's body shuddered, then stiffened, then went limp. A man in a white uniform leant forward and checked her pulse, nodding in confirmation to Sylvan who turned back to the camera. 'Transmission over,' and the screen went dark.

Silence. John stood stock still, staring at the darkened screen. Behind him there was a sob as Teyla began to weep on Ronan's shoulder. He couldn't move. The images flashed before his eyes again. They had killed her. His love, his life. They had killed her. He heard a movement behind him and felt a hand on his shoulder, but still he couldn't move; couldn't escape the playback. He heard a distant voice saying, 'John, John, come away now', but still he couldn't move. If he left this spot, she'd be gone forever. They had killed her. He heard another softer female voice. 'John, you have to come away from here. Let Jennifer and Rodney take you. John, please.' He half registered desperation in the voice and responded numbly to it, allowing himself to be guided away. Firm arms held him. He lay down on a bed, felt a prick in his arm and closed his eyes.

TBC

_Just becaus_e _I love to see John whumped. More to come. Please R and R. I love to get reviews, good or bad: they encourage me to go on..._


	4. Chapter 4

A lone figure sat at a round table on the east pier. The moons, usually so bright on New Atlantea, were shrouded behind clouds. The man was wearing a blue uniform, with a bright white shirt and an array of ribbons and medals. Even from a distance, it was possible to see his dark hair standing up at all angles. He was fiddling with something around his neck, a gold ring on a leather string which had the air of something he did by habit. On the table in front of him lay a stiff hat. Suddenly, he grasped the hat and flung it into the ocean then stood still, staring into the dark seas. A closer look would show his shoulders lightly shaking and a closer one still a single tear that ran unchecked down his face.

***

The service had not been easy for anyone. John stood silent and to attention, while a raft of people gave thanks and shared memories. Rodney had spoken, as had Woolsey. Teyla sang. With the absence of a coffin, a book of remembrance had been available all week and those who knew and loved Cat, as well as those who remembered her for the sake of their CO, had signed it, leaving a sea of flowers around the pedestal. The smell of them permeated the gate room. John's only act in the ceremony was to lay a single white lily, Cat's favourite flower, then he had taken up his lonely vigil on the pier.

Teyla, Ronon and Rodney gave him some space and time, then gathered him up protectively and ushered him back inside the city. In time, he would be alright, with the loving care of friends. Within a week, he was back in his black BDUs and on duty. This was his way of coping. He was also back in his old rooms, unable to sleep in the bed that he and Cat had shared. To an outsider, he would seem to be a rather solemn military man who took his responsibilities seriously. John's smiles could light up a room, but his friends doubted they would return any time soon. He had always looked younger than his 41 years, but the trauma had aged him, making him look drawn and older. Something had shifted in Atlantis. The fun and laughter was no longer present. Before, John would have been seen racing remote control cars with Rodney in the middle of the night, or running with Ronon in the early hours, or delivering a crateful of beer to the rec room for a marine's birthday. Rodney had noticed the city's systems also seemed kind of sluggish, although he couldn't put his finger on exactly why or how. It just wasn't right.

***

In a warren of caves, deep in the mountains in Incana, a small team of men in white coats were working over a bed. On the bed lay a woman. She was pale and thin, a tube down her throat assisting breathing and a machine beeping a range of warning signals. At the entrance two soldiers in green/grey uniform were on guard, though at first glance it was difficult to tell whether they were keeping enemies out or stopping them getting in.

Doctor Roedan had been loyal to Commander Laden for some time now. After Cowan, he recognised Laden as being the best chance for the Genii. He had not hesitated when his commander asked him to go underground to work with the opposition. In his eyes, Sylvan was a traitor, made more in the mould of Cowan or Kolya, but others had thought differently and Sylvan's support was growing. There was still infighting in the so-called federation of planets, unsure which military faction to ally with, and Sylvan had gained a strong foothold. Laden, on the other hand, had learned to value the alliance with Atlantis and knew it was his best chance at maintaining any sort of influence. When word reached him that Colonel Sheppard's woman had been kidnapped, he mobilised as much support as possible. Self interest, too, was a motivator. He knew the Colonel to be a very proficient and ruthless soldier, especially where those he loved were threatened and had no intention of suffering the fall out. Thankfully, Roedan was already in place. It was Roedan who felt her pulse and pronounced her dead. It was Roedan who took advantage of Sylvan's carelessness, and quickly spirited her away, resuscitating her as he went. There were no guarantees that she would survive then and they were still struggling to keep her alive. Her heart had stopped twice in the last 24 hours and the doctor was exhausted.

It was imperative that they moved her off the planet as soon as possible. She needed to be back with her people and he suspected too that she would fare better with the superior care she could receive on Atlantis. He would have liked to see her open her eyes, to see some life in them, but Laden's men were on their way. His team had prepared her as best they could, attaching portable monitors and breathing apparatus. When the men arrived, he gave them quick instructions on her care, and then sadly saw the stretcher disappear from the cave. Roedan was a kind man and a good doctor. He prayed for her survival and her return to Atlantis.

***

'Incoming wormhole', announced Amelia Banks. 'It's the Genii: Laden's IDC, sir.'

'Okay, lower the shield. Let's see what he wants. Security detail to the gate room.' John was curious. Why would Laden want to contact them now? This could play right into their hands. Lorne suspected that the Genii might have been behind the attack on Incana and, while John doubted that Laden had anything to do with it, he also didn't entirely trust the man. Rumour had it that there was at least one large break-away faction causing trouble in the galaxy and Laden would have his own political reasons for being here.

A small group of Genii soldiers came through the gate. At the centre were Laden, and a stretcher. On the stretcher was a body attached to a mess of life-saving equipment. Laden stepped forward and shook hands with John.

'Welcome, Laden. Long time no see. To what do we owe the pleasure of this little visit?' John, as ever, tried to keep the tone light, but those who knew him well were not deceived, and nor was Laden.

'I have brought you a gift, Colonel. A token of the value in which we place our alliance.' With that, Laden stepped back, and the stretcher was placed in front of John. There was a collective intake of breath in the room as they recognised the pale woman lying so still in front of them. John was last to react, unable to believe what he was seeing. He heard Woolsey call for a medical team and he was aware of a flurry of activity as they arrived and Keller assessed her new patient. He heard someone say firmly, 'To the infirmary, now', and then the noise and shouting disappeared down the corridor. Still he stood in a daze.

He felt the familiar touch as Teyla placed her hand on his arm. 'Come with me John. Come to the infirmary. Ronon, take John's other arm please? Rodney, are you coming?' It was enough to wake him from his stupor.

'Yes, I'm coming. Did you see her, Teyla? Was it Cat? I don't understand. Was she alive?'

'Yes, John, it appears so. You need to be with her.' With a backward glance to Woolsey and then Laden, he allowed himself to be guided and together the team made their way to the infirmary, as always supporting each other. For now, they would leave Woolsey to deal with Laden. Teyla had no doubt of the little man's capabilities: he had proved himself on many occasions since he was appointed commander of Atlantis. Explanations could come later.

There was controlled and practiced activity around the bed in ICU as John and his team arrived. Jennifer Keller had quickly assessed the situation. At least her patient was alive, later she would find time to stop and be amazed at her friend's return, but her condition was critical. She had a head wound, though a scan had showed no swelling on the brain, a broken cheek bone and three broken ribs, evidenced by a very large purple bruise on her right side. There was some evidence of an extreme electric shock, with burns where the conduits had touched skin, but the most serious was the irregular heart rhythm, still weak and thready. Some bruising around the sternum and red marks on her chest suggested that she had been resuscitated at least once and Jennifer sincerely hoped that this would not be necessary again. She had immediately replaced the Genii breathing apparatus with Atlantis' more sophisticated ventilator; from her left side came a spaghetti-like mass of wires, attached to the machines which beeped next to the bed and a drip had been set up on the right. Satisfied that her patient was stable for now, she turned to face John.

'Well, she is alive.' Jennifer listed the injuries, keeping her tone professional, still managing to push aside the emotion. 'Her condition is critical but stable. A nurse will be with her 24 hours a day until we know that she is out of danger.'

'Will she be okay, Doc?' were the first words that John spoke since he had half-registered the body of the stretcher.

'I just don't know right now, Colonel. She had been through a lot. I am most concerned about the damage done to her heart. The next 24 hours should give us more idea.' As ever, Jennifer wished she could be more optimistic.

'I haven't seen her yet, Doc. Please can I see her?' John asked shakily. 'I need to see her. Just to be sure, you know.' John paused a few paces away from the bed. Cat's thin body was stretched over the bed like a butterfly pinned for display. A thin sheet covered her torso. A large livid bruise stained her swollen cheek and her legs were ragged with cuts and grazes, just beginning to heal. The monitor to her right beeped regularly, with an intermittent and faster beep when her heart rate dropped. The ventilator on her left puffed life into her, the green mouthpiece tightly attached to her mouth with sticky plaster. From here, he could see how it had begun to cut into the sides of her mouth. John didn't know what to feel: she was alive so he should be happy, ecstatic, and yet she was so near to death that he thought his soul would break. If he lost her again he was sure to lose himself too.

Someone put a chair behind him and he sat down heavily, vaguely aware of voices around him, but unable to take in the words. He would stay here as long as it took, watching the machines.

The nurse looked on sympathetically: she'd seen this all before. Relatives and loved ones often became entirely reliant on the sight and sound of the machinery: it became a comfort; the only thing capable of telling them that the still body still lived and breathed.

Teyla, Ronon and Rodney came to their usual silent agreement and began their watch, this time over both injured people.

TBC

Please R&R. It might encourage me to make John feel better.

_It will start to get better for John, eventually! I wrote the description of the ICU bed from personal experience. My son was seriously injured in an RTA and was in ICU for 12 days. Writing it down brought back some memories, not all bad since he survived. The doctors and nurses who work in ICU are amazing and dedicated._


	5. Chapter 5

_A.N. The descriptions here are taken from personal experience. I did try not to linger too long on Cat's recovery, because I didn't want the story to become too sickly sweet and it does return to the Genii and what to do with Syldan. Also, I am aware that JF thinks that watching two people fall in love is not good entertainment, and I bow a little to him here, although my imagination needs to be fed by some romance!_

_Thanks for the reviews. For Snow, there will be more whump and as ever, there is emotional whump. For Shelly, thanks so much for the positive comments. I was struggling but you gave me inspiration._

Sometime into the second day, Cat began her long journey back to John. The ICU nurse was tending to a marine injured in a nasty fight the previous night. It was a sign of John's dislocation from reality that he hardly considered the man. A tiny twitch of a finger and a flutter of eyelid was all it was. John was sitting with his head resting on her lap, grabbing a few moments of sleep, when he felt the hand nearest to him move ever so slightly. Immediately, he sat bolt upright, whispering , 'Cat, my angel, can you hear me,' and a much louder, 'Doc, Doc, I think she's awake.' Her eyelashes briefly opened, revealing a blood shot and bleary eye, then as quickly closed again. Before the nurse and Jennifer could reach her, she was unconscious again.

John fell into a fitful sleep on the bed next to Cat's, facing her so that he could see her, his senses so attuned that he would awake to the slightest sound or movement. In the early hours, the infirmary lights dim, he woke up to the sound of Cat coughing and gasping for breath and the loud warning beep of the monitor as her heart raced. Her right hand was struggling to pull out the ventilator tube. Instantly, the nurse was next to her.

'Doctor Adams, Catherine. It's fine, just calm down. You are on a ventilator. You have a tube down your throat helping you to breathe. Try to let it do the breathing for you. Doctor Keller will be with you very soon and we should be able to take that nasty thing out. Colonel, help me here please? Try to reassure her.'

John stroked Cat's arm, telling her that everything was going to be alright, that she was home, back on Atlantis and although the eyes that stared back at him were wide and unknowing, she responded to his voice and began to calm.

Within a minute Jennifer arrived. Although supposedly 'resting' in her office, she rarely slept when she had such seriously ill patients under her care. 'It's alright Cat. I am just going to take out the tube. It will be a little uncomfortable, and you will have to breathe through an oxygen mask for a bit until we are sure you can breathe on your own.' The tube removed, Cat began to breathe more calmly, though struggled a little at first. Finally, she settled into a regular rhythm and, to John's disappointment, her eyes closed again.

'She needs to rest, John. Don't worry, it's quite normal. Give her time.'

Later that morning, she woke again. This time the eyes were clearer and bluer and looked directly at John. For a few minutes, they stayed like that, neither wanting to break the moment. All she knew was that somehow she was alive; all he knew was that she was here, in front of him, looking at him with those eyes he had never thought to look into again. Then, he leant into her, put his head on her shoulder and wept tears of relief.

***

The next time she woke up, John was not there, but Teyla was perched on the end of her bed.

'Hello, Cat. It is wonderful to see you awake. How are you feeling?

'John. Where's John?'

'Do not worry. He will be back. Rodney told him it was time he had a shower and a shave. Something about zoos and gorillas was mentioned, and although the words are strange to me I think I understood what Rodney meant. He has only been gone for about an hour. He has been with you nearly all the time since you came back. Cat, can you remember anything about what happened to you?'

'I, I....' Cat's voice broke from both weakness and the emotional stress of trying to remember.

'It is alright. It can wait until you are stronger. Maybe we should wait until John is here?'

'Teyla. I do remember something. They were going to execute me...I, I couldn't see anything, but he told me he would electrocute me and I would die. I heard John's voice. He said he would come for me. Then it hurt. Everything hurt. Did he come for me, Teyla? How did I get back? What happened? Where's John?' It was too much for her and she begun to sob uncontrollably, her whole body shaking. Teyla looked anxiously at the heart monitor, which clearly showed Cat's heart rate rising, then the alarms went off and the bed was surrounded again with activity as Keller and her nurses tried to ease Cat's distress, unwilling to dose her up too soon with the sedatives that would send her back to an oblivious but restless sleep.

'I think it would help if the Colonel was here,' said Keller.

'John, you need to get to the infirmary now. Cat needs you,' Teyla called John on his radio. 'Come quickly.'

A panicked John ran to the infirmary. Teyla's urgent call had led him to fear the worst and he paused briefly at the doorway. He could hear Cat's hysterical crying and his voice being called over and over again, frighteningly reminiscent of Rodney shouting his name on another occasion when he thought that someone close to him would die, then he ran to her bedside.

'I'm so sorry, my love. I just went to get a shower. You were asleep and Teyla was with you. I'm here now. Everything will be okay. ' He gently took her in his arms and held her close and slowly the tears subsided and she stopped shaking. He questioned Teyla with a look, wondering what had brought on this attack, and turning to Cat asked, 'What is it? What has upset you? Tell me and I can help you.'

The memories of that day began to return. She was able to tell him about the attack in the clearing, the way the attackers knew her name and the horrible events in the Genii jail. She reassured him that she heard his last words to her and told him how much comfort they had given her, knowing that she was about to die, but at the same time she was appalled that he had to watch it happen. In time, she would add more detail, but for now this was enough.

***

Within a week, she was feeling stronger and Jennifer released her to their quarters. During her time on the ward, she had many visitors, not least the 'team'. She played chess with Rodney and even managed to beat him once; she talked men, weddings and Torren with Teyla; and she planned her recovery to fitness with Ronon. John was with her as much as he could be, but as she recovered, he needed to go back to his duties. There was a lot to sort out and plans to be made. Now she was back 'home' he spent all his off-time with her and, as she regained her fitness, this time together began to be spent more pleasurably. At first, all she had the strength to do was to fall asleep in his arms, lulled by his gentle kisses and expressions of affection; for a man who had once been so unable to tell her he loved her, he now, at least in private, had no such inhibitions. Publically, she would never expect more. John would always be a private man who kept his emotions locked away: the difference now is that she was locked away with them. She had never considered sex to be medicinal before, but she could swear that it did her more good than any prescribed drug, and he had even started not treating her as though she might break. Passion once again began the day and quite often punctuated lunchtimes and evenings too, but now with even more intensity than she thought could be possible.

Laden had left Atlantis after two days. Woolsey was adamant that he had known nothing about Syldan's attack and recapped their lengthy discussions with his 2iC. In return for Laden's role in returning Cat, Woolsey had committed Atlantis to supporting his fight against the insurgent forces, but he had been waiting for his military CO to be able to focus properly on the task. One of the many things Woolsey admired about Sheppard was his tactical brain and his military capability and, while Lorne was also very capable, he needed Sheppard's intelligence and good instincts for the right way to act; he was a man who both made good plans and was fully involved in their implementation, always putting himself in the front line. Richard Woolsey was quite certain that this was a mission the Colonel would definitely want to be involved in, though many commanders might have considered excluding a man so personally involved. Probably another protocol he was about to ignore. It was a good job that he was no longer on probation, but he was certain that it was yet another decision that he might have to defend during his next IOA review. In any case, Woolsey knew how Sheppard worked and reacted to situations where the city, his friends or his colleagues were threatened or in danger. He had read the mission reports on Kolya's failed attempt to take Atlantis, and the ruthless efficiency with which Sheppard had taken out the Genii. He also seriously doubted whether he could prevent the headstrong and stubborn Colonel going after Syldan and recognised how much of Sheppard's strength came from a powerful inner conviction for justice and right. A man capable of fewer words would simply say that he trusted Sheppard, pure and simple.

They were sitting in Woolsey's office, with Lorne, who was still on light duties only following his head injury.

Woolsey's first concern had been a question of security. How did Syldan know about the Colonel and Doctor Adams: he even knew they were to be married? It was possible they had an informer on the base, but it was equally possible that someone had merely been overheard gossiping. For a while, the couple had been the talk of the city and though the interest had died down a little, there was excitement about what most considered a 'family' wedding. John's reputation was such that for those who didn't know him he was also thought of as something of a celebrity, and the marriage had developed a status akin to Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie among certain elements. It was quite possible that the news had simply 'leaked out'. However, to be sure Woolsey appointed Lorne to take charge of the investigations on Atlantis, having to overcome serious opposition from the Major who desperately wanted to be involved in the mission, still feeling responsible for letting the attack happen, and needing his own 'closure' following the brutal murder of the young female soldier. Above all, he had promised his CO that he would keep Cat safe and had failed in that charge.

'Major, you are the best person to investigate this and we need you here to substitute for the Colonel in his absence. You have also only just recovered from a nasty head injury. You need to stay here. Whilst my predecessors might have played fast and loose with protocols, and I will admit to breaking a few myself,' he paused with an ironic smile in John's direction, 'the rules clearly state that, in the absence of the Military Commander, his 2iC must stay on the base, and I will not be swayed on this.'

Begrudgingly, Lorne accepted, and with a nod to his CO, left to begin his investigations, hoping that this time it would come to nothing. On the other hand, if gossip were the cause, he would make damn sure that everyone on the base learned how to keep their mouths shut.

Laden had returned home, promising to 'find out' possible locations for Syldan's base of operations but they hadn't heard from him yet. Woolsey had not asked how Laden might achieve this and didn't really care. He only hoped that he would be true to his word.

'We need a plan, for when we get the Intel.' John began to work through some ideas and Woolsey admired John's quick brain and clear decision making. 'Once we have the location, we need to attack quickly and with force. My team will lead, of course.' Woolsey smiled. Why this team were so successful was sometimes difficult to fathom, but he supposed it was more about the dynamic of the group and John's excellent leadership, than any shining individual skills. Somehow, when they come together, they become an almost superhuman force, and they had certainly survived some situations worthy of the best comic magazine. John continued, 'We will need to have a squad of marines to back us up and I want a team of engineers too. If we have to break into a fortified base, then we need them on hand. Rodney is great at breaking locks, but for this we may need less finesse. If Laden can give us more detailed Intel about layout etc then we may be able to have a more precise plan of action. At the moment, it's more about surprise and force. As well, Teyla and Ronon will try to find this Doctor Roedan character. If we are to believe Laden, he is the doctor who saved Cat and he is an ally; I would also like to shake his hand.' Woolsey smiled again. This was typical of the man and he supposed it was why some elements of the military still doubted him. He had the ability to be calmly and militarily efficient, while also maintaining an intensely personal perspective and it was this balance which made him unique, in Woolsey's experience, amongst the military.

'Colonel. Have you considered taking Doctor Adams with you? She is after all the only person who has been inside the Genii base and she will recognise Syldan. The image we received through the video link was a little blurry and it would be helpful to have someone who knows what he looks like.' Woolsey glanced at Sheppard with some trepidation.

'I don't want to take her. She is not fully recovered yet physically and she has been through a terrible emotional trauma. No. I can't risk her, I can't.'

'I think you need to ask her, don't you? Sometimes, returning to the scene can be helpful and, having got to know Catherine, I feel sure that she would like to face the man who tortured her and see him brought down. She might also want to thank those who saved her. She has a stubborn edge that reminds me of my late mother sometimes.' Reacting to John's raised eyebrow he continued, 'Oh, I'm sorry, did I just say that out loud,' and he coughed nervously.

'I would have to bring extra security. And, Ronon would need to be assigned to her at all times as well, meaning a small team would need to accompany Teyla in her search for Roedan. And, if there is _any_ chance that things are about to go belly up, I want The Daedelus in orbit to get her out immediately. And, she would have to willingly agree.'

'Certainly, Colonel. The Daedelus will be there to bring out _anyone_ in trouble, including you. Let me know what she says.' Woolsey made a few notes and closed his notebook, a gesture which John knew meant 'conversation over. Dismissed,' so he nodded and left to find Cat. Woolsey had a point, but there was no damn way he would let her go if he even thought she would be harmed.

There was little they could do until they heard form Laden. Lorne's investigations had not turned up an 'informer' but a rather guilty group of young scientists had shuffled into his office and admitted that they had been chattering, probably rather loudly, about the upcoming wedding while recently off-world. Lorne sighed at their silliness and smiled, not for the first time, at the idea of his CO as some kind of celebrity. While Sheppard certainly liked to be the hero, he was the last person who would want this kind of attention. That it turned out to be scientists did not surprise him either. For supposedly intelligent people they could often be remarkably stupid. Thinking the best way to manage this was through the city's CSO, he contacted Rodney with their names and left him to deal with them in his own unique way. The dressing down he gave them could be heard throughout the city and Lorne doubted if any scientist would be so careless again.

That evening, the couple sat on two large cushions, in the sheltered corner of the east pier. Normally, this would be a place away from everything and many of the important points in their relationship had been acted out there. John smiled as he remembered some of the 'hotter' moments, then quickly had to unfuddle his thoughts as he turned to the question he had to ask.

'Cat. I have a question to ask you. It's business, I'm afraid, and I know that we don't usually bring business here, but in a way it is also personal.' He frowned as he found the words to continue, and then decided that directness would be best. 'We will be heading out to Syldan's base, once Laden has contacted us with the location. We have a good plan, and Laden will be backing us up.' He paused briefly at Cat's nervous expression, then continued,' the thing is, Woolsey and I, we wondered if you would want to come along on the mission. It won't be pleasant: you may have to face Syldan again and see again the prison you were kept in, but you may also be able to thank your rescuers. We will take Syldan out, you can be sure of that, and you will know for ever that he has gone. Believe me when I say, from personal experience, that nothing beats that feeling.' He didn't need to say more. They both knew he meant Kolya.

Cat sat in silence for a while, still curled up in the warmth that was John. In the Genii prison, she had never thought to be feeling him again, to be able to smell the special smell that was John Sheppard, a heady mix of soap, muskiness and masculinity. She allowed herself to wallow in her senses before she made her decision, then she quietly answered,' Yes, John. I think I should come with you.'

He held her in his arms tightly, and leaning down to her kissed her softly on the lips. 'I will not let anything happen to you,' he whispered, as the kiss became hotter and he guided her gently back onto the cushions.

Three days later, word from Laden came through. He had found Syldan's base. He agreed that Atlantis' teams should go in first, but stipulated clearly that his soldiers would follow on to clear up the mess. Particularly, he requested that Syldan be left to him, though doubted privately that Colonel Sheppard would let this happen, and asked that Doctor Roedan and his supporters be returned safely.

'No promises, Laden, at least about Syldan. We will, however, do our best to recover Roedan. We have much to thank him for.' John watched as the wormhole disengaged, immediately ordering his team, the marines and the engineers to meet in the gate room in two hours. A grim smile passed his lips. No, he was not a man who believed in revenge, but on the other hand.....

TBC

_So, it seemed like everything was okay and now John and Cat are going to be placed in more danger._

_Please R and R. Reviews on my last chapter gave me the inspiration to complete this one!_


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks to all the lovely reviews. I_ _always listen._

That morning Cat had woken early and looked over to the man sleeping peacefully on her left. Somehow, John had managed to find them a larger bed and, though she regretted the physical closeness necessitated by a narrow bed and two adult bodies, it did have its benefits. John was flat on his back next to her. He was an untidy sleeper, and the covers were twisted up to such a degree that the only part of his body covered was his left thigh. His right arm was hooked under his pillow, allowing Cat an exceptionally good view of his body and she was determined to take full advantage.

Methodically, she decided to take in every part of him, from the tip of his unruly hair to the ends of his long toes. His forehead, often creased into a thoughtful frown, was free of worry and he looked much younger than his years. She allowed her eyes to sweep down over his long nose to the full lips which even in sleep managed to pout, exhaling air with a gentle wheeze. John rarely snored: it was part of his gracefulness that even the noises he made in sleep where beautifully formed. Her eyes wandered down his strong jaw, marvelling at the handsome features which were able to suggest so much masculine strength, while being in equal measure delicate and beautiful. He was facing her and his long neck was being shown off at its best. Like his face, his neck was both graceful and powerful, with a pronounced Adam's apple, the dip beneath which she loved to kiss. At the base of his neck was the tuft of hair which usually peeked just above his black t-shirts, only suggesting to the observer what lay beneath. She continued her virtual caress, noticing the white hairs that were beginning to pepper the darker on his muscular chest, which only added to his attractiveness. John's body had the perfection of a man who had always been physically fit, not the artificial muscularity of, say, a body-builder. He was muscular and toned in such a way that every muscle was a part of his body's purpose. The chest was strong and the hair on it dropped to his waist and beyond in a line which she couldn't avoid taking, then stopped herself. No, she would take her time, enjoying the lazy slow pace of her reverie. Raising her eyes, she took in the strength of his arms and the downy hair that showed off his maleness, arms that could grip hard in battle, but hold lovingly in a caress. His hands, like his feet, were large, with long elegant fingers. Yes, in every way the man laid out in front of her was well endowed. She let out a pleased sigh, which was either rather louder than she had intended, or it was John's unique ability to sleep like a child, but wake at the merest sound like a parent listening out for a new born baby, because she felt a pair of smiling hazel eyes on her.

'M'ning! Now, I hate to interrupt you but isn't there something else you could be doing other than just looking?' and his lips curled seductively. Cat blushed. She'd been caught out, and even after a year and a half, still hadn't quite become accustomed to the openness and intimacy that John was very comfortable with. He, however, was charmed by the shyness that this usually confident woman showed, much more so than the rather more obvious sexuality of many of his recent experiences. This morning, though, she decided to take him at his word and follow her virtual caresses with real ones, taking them both to places that they didn't know existed. And again, he told and showed her how much he loved and desired her. Afterwards, they lay peacefully and satisfied in each other's arms, until he wickedly said, 'Now, it's my turn to look,' and it was another hour before he finally set off for his morning run, leaving her to lay back and think about all things 'John Sheppard'.

She thought she knew him better than anyone else, but who knows? He was such a complex man, with layers upon layers beneath the attractive exterior. His eyes, in a rather clichéd way, were truly the windows to his soul, but he was equally capable of closing the shutters. One of the first things she had noticed about him was his eyes: the mystifying colour; the smile that he could set in them, sometimes real, sometimes fake, she had soon learned to tell the difference; the directness of eye contact with everyone. Teyla had told her that it was his ability to look straight at her and not through her that made her first feel he was a man she could trust. The eyes could powerfully demonstrate a full range of emotions. Indeed, many a marine had felt the fire of their CO's anger in a single look. There were also many different John Sheppards and she didn't fool herself into imagining she had or would see every one of them. It was a little like watching a man in the various stages of growing up. To Rodney, he was frequently an excited little boy, playing games and practical jokes. Even the snarky banter between them had a remarkably childish quality about it. To Ronon, he was the adolescent teenager, full of male testosterone and competitiveness. To Teyla, he was the protective big brother, Uncle to her son. To Cat, he was often the vibrant young lover (she began to drift off into memories of the last hour at this point). To his men, he was a hero figure, an excellent and fair leader and a fine military tactician, respected and trusted. To anyone in authority, he could be a rebellious pain in the ass and had permanently been stamped with the so-called black mark from Afghanistan, a glorified and cocky flyboy. The single characteristic that united all these was John Sheppard, big brother. He looked after and cared for everyone as though they were a member of his family and Cat wished that his own family had understood the kind of man he was. And he was loyal to the point of obsession. He had given up much of himself in the service of others and she was determined to ensure that, with her, he regained it again.

Cat looked in the mirror. Her cheek was still very swollen and a purplish, a yellow and green bruise spreading from it to her eye and nose. Her side still ached and, though no longer bound, there was evidence of bruising here too. The burns on her hands had begun to heal, though the skin was pink and tender. She was a little less curvy than usual, but didn't really mind. No, all in all not too bad, Cat, she thought as she put on her jogging top and pants. Falling back into her normal routine was a way to forget what she knew was coming soon. They were just waiting for the word from Laden and she needed to keep her mind off it. So, she went for her, shorter and less demanding than usual, run, had breakfast in the canteen with her friends, and headed off to her office, so engrossed in what she was doing, that she jumped when the message came over the radio from John. Laden had identified the rebel Genii base.

***

John looked down at the gate room, watching the teams amassing. Ronon, Teyla, Rodney and Cat were already there, as were SGA3 and 4. Lorne's team was staying behind with him. Three teams of marines were also present. The plan was to take three jumpers, each with an SGA team and marine support. A fourth jumper would carry the team of engineers. The Daedelus was heading straight to the planet where the rebel base was located, and Caldwell had promised the support of his F302s if necessary, as well as a quick get out if called for. John had been careful to stipulate that Cat should be the first to be beamed up in an emergency.

From the balcony, John gave his usual morale boosting talk as well as a last briefing before the jumpers headed out. The members of the mission had already been briefed on the details.

'SGA 3 and Major Stevens' team, you will take jumper 2. SGA 4 and Captain Tomas' team, take jumper 3. SGA 1, Doctor Adams and Lieutenant Marshall's team will take jumper 1. You all have a map of the area with the location of the base. Captain Brahms will fly jumper 4 with the engineers. SGA4, I want you to head through the gate first. Shield immediately, and check for hostiles in the area. If it is all clear, send the message through and we will follow, jumper 1 first. If it is not clear, do what you can to eliminate the threat and then signal back to us or at the very least draw their fire. It is vital that the rest of us get through unnoticed, so everyone shield straight away. We will meet at base point 2 as marked on your maps. It is about a mile's walk from the Genii base. At that point, we will separate as per the plan. Laden and The Genii will arrive an hour after us and are there, initially, to back us up. If any of you come across Commander Syldan, you are to capture him and bring him in alive. Now, let's do this! And to a chorus of 'yes, sir', the Atlantis teams headed out.

Cat sat to the rear of the jumper, watching John's back. In full business mode, he struck a powerful figure and she was impressed with his authority and the respect in which he was held. Once or twice he glanced back at her and she briefly saw a flash of 'her' John in his eyes, before he went back into military persona. Not for the first time, she wondered what the hell she was doing here. She had been blindfolded for most of the time during her captivity and really wondered how much assistance she could be, and she was more frightened than she cared to admit about the prospect of facing her captors. Still, if she could thank those who saved her, the journey would be worthwhile.

Word came through from SGA4. The gate was clear and John gave the command.

***

The forces amassed on the ground were certainly impressive. John quickly confirmed that Caldwell was ready with The Daedelus, orders were re-iterated and the teams set off. John placed Cat in the middle of his group, with the towering presence of Ronon stoically taking guard behind her, followed by four marines and the engineers. He led the way, as ever, with Rodney and Teyla at either side. From her vantage point, she could hear the scientist's incessant chatter, and words such as 'damp', 'cold' and 'hungry' drifted back occasionally but she knew that his carping and John's sarcastic responses, as well as the quiet resignation shown by Teyla, was a much practised method of reducing the tension. And, these days, Rodney was an almost equal member of the team militarily: a far cry from the early days when he couldn't even load a gun. Cat bit back a smile. It was clear that, though he would never admit it, he admired John almost to the point of hero worship. She watched as he, subconsciously, mirrored John's posture and movements and he had even taken to wearing a matching pair of sunglasses. 'The Odd Couple' she thought. From a distance, they certainly made a funny picture and she chortled at the sight, causing a slight raise of an eye brow from Ronon and a knowing smile as he followed her gaze. To her right and left she was aware of the other teams. Laden's blueprints had revealed the rebel headquarters as being a warren of caves, with a single entrance and exit. The third team would wait outside, ready to attack any stragglers who tried to escape. The teams were in no doubt as to the military objectives here. Firstly, the base had to be destroyed, and the insurgent faction dismantled and, secondly, their commander had to be taken, preferably alive.

This was it. The entrance was almost hidden by the dense, green undergrowth, a dark hole into the hill side. There were just two guards outside: Syldan was clearly not expecting visitors and they were quickly taken out. By now, Atlantis' forces were well equipped with Wraith stunners from their many military successes and they at least allowed for a less well-announced attack. Without hesitation, the first team entered the base. Rodney held the life-signs detector and confirmed that there were two main groups, confirming Laden's information.

'If Laden is right, then this group is the medical team and the other is the military contingent,' Rodney pointed to the screen.

'Right, this is it.' John gave his orders. 'McKay, Ronon and Doctor Adams, you're with me, along with you two.' He gestured at two of the marines. 'Lieutenant Marshall and Private Johansson, you will accompany Teyla to the medical facilities. If Doctor Roedan is there, I want you to get him out quickly and onto The Daedelus. Major Malone, take your engineers to the generator room as marked on the map. According to Laden, well-placed explosives here should do the trick. Set the charges for ten minutes, then get out.'

The teams dispersed and Cat was left to ponder John's back as they headed off through the corridors. She could feel the cold, musty dampness on her skin, mimicking the fear that was creeping up her spine. The smell was familiar and she remembered waking up in the prison cell, the hard cold floor beneath her. With a shudder, she tried again to take her mind off what was about to happen: the danger they were walking into. John insisted on wearing baggy black military trousers and his black shirt covered most of his bottom. She had heard discussion from some of the female members of Atlantis not long after she arrived about the grey ones he used to wear and how they showed off his ample maleness to its best. Once, she had teased him about it and he had admitted that the attention he was getting, while very flattering, could be rather less than professional. In fact, beneath the cocky exterior was an intensely private and rather shy man, who found the notice uncomfortable. She contented herself with knowing exactly what was underneath and then focused her gaze on his strong neck and shoulders, with the little v of hair that pointed down towards the nape of his neck. Never really a woman who went for a man in uniform before, she had certainly developed a slight obsession for the black uniform in front of her.

Suddenly, John raised his hand and beckoned to Rodney who confirmed the five life signs present behind a heavy iron door. With a quick look back, wordlessly John reminded Ronon to look after Cat, to which he, in turn, silently nodded, and put his arm gently on her shoulder. The two marines quickly placed their C4 charges on the heavy and rusted hinges, then the group fell back to a safe distance and, to a shout of 'fire in the hall', an explosion ripped through the door, pulling it off its hinges and bending the door into a jagged mess. All hell broke loose and Cat couldn't see what was happening through the smoke, the dust and the gunfire. Gunshots echoed through the cavernous corridors, bullets skidding off the wall behind her and Ronon placed himself firmly at her front, firing his gun at, what appeared to her to be, an invisible enemy. As suddenly as it had started, everything went quiet, and then there was the sound of a scuffle and the unmistakeable noise of hand to hand fighting. She heard an unidentifiable shout followed by a single gun-shot, then silence.

***

In another part of the caverns, Teyla and her escort found the small medical team holed up in the infirmary. A small man with gentle blue eyes walked towards her and took her hand. She knew straight away that this must be Doctor Roedan. Laden had managed to get a message through to him and he had been waiting, with much of his medical kit already packed. With no time to waste, they took what they could, and ran from the caverns, making it out with three minutes to spare. Within a minute, the doctor and his team were on board The Daedelus and Teyla waited for the other teams to emerge, most especially her friends. The Engineers were already out, and team three was in position to take out any hostiles who managed to escape the blast. A nasty sick feeling was gnawing at her, telling her that something she was wrong. Where were they? They should be out by now.

***

Cat watched the events unfold in slow motion. A single marine staggered from the door, covered in dust and dirt. Behind him was a large man, dressed in a grey/green uniform, holding in front of him a crumpled and bloody figure in black. She gasped as she took in the scene. Syldan had a gun pressed hard against John's right temple.

'Well, this is a pleasant surprise, Doctor Adams, and you've brought me a little present, I see.' At this, he pressed the gun harder into John's head. It took Cat a moment to take in his condition. John was clearly dazed and only half aware of the man holding him. A steady flow of blood was creeping down his left cheek, dripping off his jawbone and onto the floor. With a sharp inhalation, she noticed another pool forming on the floor by his left foot. His face was pale, an almost sickly bluish hue and his eyes fluttered open and then closed again. She heard Ronon swear and bring his gun in line with Syldan's head.

'Oh, I wouldn't try to kill me, Ronon, is it? Yes, I've heard all about you! You see, my gun is already cocked. Your Colonel here would be dead before me. Go on, why don't you try it? I can see you want to,' Syldan goaded, with the eyes of a man who had accepted death as inevitable.

Ronon grimaced, then lowered his gun. At that moment, two things happened. Rodney woke out of his shocked stupor and whispered, 'the time, Ronon, look at the time. If the engineers reached generator room as planned and set the explosives, we can't have more than a minute to get out of here, maybe less. We have to leave now or we'll all be killed.' At the same time, John stirred, his eyes cleared , briefly showing the pain he was in, and his sharp brain took in the situation. Without a blink, he stared intently at Ronon and Cat.

'You have to leave now. Ronon and Rodney, take Cat.'

Ronon hesitated and Rodney looked stunned. They both knew that they had to make a terrible choice.

'That's an order. Get out of here.' The hot intensity of his stare burned into Cat's consciousness. In that one look he said, 'I love you; you must leave; I need you to be safe; Goodbye.' She met his eyes, unable to move, then felt strong arms pull her away from the man she loved above life and away down the corridors. She was hardly aware of the rush of air and light that hit them as they hurtled away from the exit. Then, there was a mighty bang , the air turned orange, and she was flung to the ground, a heavy weight above her as Ronon tried to carry out the last order from his friend and commander.

Choking dust crashed over them like a great tidal wave, then as quickly rolled away across the green landscape casting a ghostly pallor across its usually verdant green. She felt the weight move from her back and pull her gently to her feet.

'Are you okay?' he asked. Her mouth moved but no words came out. All she could see was the mess of rubble that had been the small hillside where the cave had been. And nothing was moving.

'John!' she cried.

***

The pain he felt as he came too was agonising. His left leg was burning and he could feel hot sticky blood soaking into his trousers. His head was throbbing and he was aware of the flow of blood as it oozed out of the wound and dripped off his jaw bone. Something cold was pressed against his temple, the familiar feel and metallic odour of a gun. Someone was gripping him so tightly from behind that his left right arm had gone numb. As his vision cleared, he remembered. Syldan had been sitting in the centre of the room, gun aimed at the doorway. How had he known? John had no time to escape the bullet that smashed into the top of his left leg and the instant nausea had forced him to his knees. He had been aware of a movement and then a sharp crack on his head caused the room around him to wobble uncontrollably. He thought he might have thrown up too, given the taste in his mouth. In front of him was Ronon, gun aimed at Syldan, a panicked looking Rodney and Cat. He could see from the anguished look on her face that he wasn't doing too well. He had listened to Syldan's words and registered Rodney's warning and knew that this was it. There was no way he could get out of this one, but he was damned if he would let his best friends and his love die with him. He hoped she had understood all the feelings in that last look and had sighed in relief when he saw Ronon grab her, but not before he saw the message in her eyes. It simply said 'I love you.' His last thoughts were of her as he felt the searing pain of an explosion and then his vision went white.

TBC

_I hope this has satisfied all the requirements of my lovely reviewers? _

_Shep whump?_

_Shep body?_

_More from Cat's perspective?_

_Less Cat whump?_

_Romance?_

_What do you want next. Let me know and I'll do my best, as ever..._

_Oh, and this is not a death fic!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Thank you to all my lovely reviewers. You know who you are. TLC coming, but for who?_

For a moment, the world stilled, and his friends and colleagues stared numbly at the pile of boulders and rubble that had become John's tomb. They made a strange tableau. Ronon still hung onto Cat's arm, though it was hard to tell who was supporting who, her mouth still forming the name she had shouted. Teyla had seemed to take an intake of breath and her hand was over her mouth as if to stop the scream from escaping. Rodney stood away a little, looking every bit the lost and lonely child, his narrow mouth formed into an anguished grimace. The teams, the marines and the engineers stood around the quartet, all looking in the direction of the destroyed cave. Silence hung around them, ears still ringing from the force of the blast. And the dust blown up by the explosion filled the air with a blue ghostly hue.

Abruptly, the painful reverie was broken by the sound of many booted feet and a shout from behind them. Ronon broke first, the first time in several hours turning his attention away from his charge to face the newcomers, with his weapon raised. This acted as a conduit for the other soldiers, who gathered to either side of him. Teyla moved to Rodney's side and gathered his arm in hers, ushering him away from the caves, then moved back to Cat and, putting her arm around her, gently walked her to the waiting group. It was Laden and a small group of Genii soldiers.

Laden took in the scene with the expert speed of a trained soldier and did not fail to notice the absence of a certain Lieutenant Colonel. 'Is there anything I can do to assist? Is Colonel Sheppard injured?'

Ronon explained what had happened. H e did not apologise for Syldan's death nor did he want to waste words on this man. Painfully aware that it was John's usual job, he was determined to get everyone else safely back to Atlantis. There were jumpers and people to return home and he would occupy himself for as long as he could, staving off the eventual need to grieve. Laden promised to remain and, with his troops, attempt to dig out the bodies from the broken cave.

'Ronon, Teyla, Doctor McKay, can you hear me?' A voice came over the radio. It was Caldwell from The Daedelus. 'What is your position please? Has the mission been successful? Do you have casualties? We have Doctor Roedan.'

Ronon jumped. He had almost forgotten about The Daedelus. 'Ronon Dex here, Colonel. Mission successful.' He bit back a sour taste. Successful? 'Some minor casualties. Syldan is dead. Two fatalities.' He tried to keep his voice steady. 'Private Drummond of the marines and,' he paused, 'Colonel Sheppard.'

There was a pause at the other end. Ronon wondered what the man was thinking. Certainly, he had held Sheppard in some disdain at first, but Ronon was certain that Caldwell had grown to respect and even like the man. They had even been known to play chess on the long journeys between Earth and Atlantis.

'I don't understand. We have Colonel Sheppard. I repeat we have Colonel Sheppard. He is in a bad way though. We had a brief and garbled message from his radio, and transported him out immediately. He was lucky. The signal was weak and we took a guess at his intentions. He sounded in trouble.'

Rodney had woken from his daze. 'What do you mean, he's in a bad way? How injured is he? I have been around the military long enough to know that 'fine' usually means in agony and 'bad' is, well really bad. And, if he radioed you why didn't we hear it too because I'm certain that even Colonel 'can escape from the jaws of death but not without giving his friend a heart attack first' Sheppard didn't have time to ask for a private channel?'

'I think you need to beam up to The Daedelus. Now. And as for not hearing his message, Doctor McKay, given the rubble and dust that landed in the infirmary with him, I suspect that the sound of the explosion might have had something to do with it.' Rodney could hear the impatient tone and sarcastic edge to Caldwell's voice and his mouth set into an angry slit. Why did the man always have the ability to get under his skin? He had the irritating ability to sound as though he was always right, even if he wasn't, Rodney thought, completely failing to recognise the irony. 'We'll beam you directly to the bridge. Is Doctor Adams with you?'

Cat was standing slightly apart from the group, unable to process what Caldwell was saying; it took her seconds longer than the others to register that John was alive. She heard the words 'bad way' and 'now'. Confused, she allowed herself to be guided yet again by Teyla as they gathered into a huddle, ready to be transported. Ronon stayed behind to organise the return to Atlantis, knowing that The Daedelus would be there only a day behind him. He would busy himself by completing John's mission.

***

The mood in the infirmary appeared to match the dull grey gleam of the night-time lighting. Cat sat silently in the hard plastic chair, one hand on John's arm. The even beep of the monitors was almost comforting, as was the gentle and even rise and fall of his chest, indicating he was still alive. He had barely made it. A purple bruise stained his right temple, the darkness beginning to spread to his eye and nose; his handsome face was peppered with tiny burns and shone a lurid red against the blue lighting of the infirmary, burned by the half-felt explosion. The doctor had assured her that the marking was temporary, more flash burn than deep scarring and she was grateful for that. Not that it would have mattered to her, but she knew it would have done to John. While he would never admit to being vain, there was a part of John Sheppard that would be lost, if he was unable to use his physical charms. Amazingly, his hair, though singed at the ends, had withstood the fire-blast and she would find time to tease him about that when he awoke.

His other injuries had proved more life-threatening, blood loss from the leg wound being the greatest danger, and he was in shock and tachiocardic when beamed into The Daedelus infirmary. Once again, his luck had held and the head injury, which could so easily have been worsened by the force of the blast, was not serious, though he was suffering from concussion. He had undergone surgery to remove the bullet in his leg and had needed a blood transfusion, but all-in-all things looked good and the doctor assured her he would make a full recovery. So, why was she feeling like this? As she absent mindedly stroked her hand up and down his arm, she reflected back on the last few hours. She didn't think that she would ever forget the look in his eyes as he ordered them to leave. She had seen the absolute acceptance of his own death and his burning need to save others at any cost. Maybe this was what was nagging away at her? The knowledge that this compulsion for self-sacrifice _would_ one day lead to a different outcome than today's; that some day she _would_ be the grieving widow, having to suffer permanently the feeling of loss which she had so briefly but intensely felt back on the planet. For a moment, she considered walking away from 'them', not knowing if she could live her life under the shadow of this constant fear, not knowing if she could bear the pain she had felt then, again.

Under her hand, his arm twitched as he returned to consciousness and he opened his eyes. It took a few seconds for him to gain any focus and to gather in his surroundings as his eyes roamed around the room anxiously. When they met Cat's, he visibly relaxed and a sweet smile played across his lips. She knew then what her answer was. She would stay with this man, regardless of what the future might bring.

'Hi,' he murmured unsteadily, 'You alright?'

Cat laughed. 'Trust you to ask that first. It's not me that's lying on a hospital bed, having been miraculously rescued from certain death. Again.' Then more gently she said, 'I'm fine, John. Now you're with me, anyway. I love you.' She leant down and gently kissed him, keeping eye contact as she did, not wanting to drag her eyes away from his. He slowly moved a weak arm around her shoulders, and, as she settled her head onto his chest, his eyes closed to a more natural and restful sleep. Business would come later. For now, it was just the two of them, helping each other recover.

***

Twenty-four hours later, they were back on Atlantis. Home. John had been installed, yet again, in 'his' bed in the infirmary and Jennifer Keller was clucking around him. The bear-hug he had from Ronon had nearly crushed the life out of him, and Rodney's incessant chatter at the end of his bed was promising to do the same. He allowed himself time to ponder upon how many times a man could die in a single lifetime. He wouldn't allow himself to dwell on the moment back on the planet when he knew with such certainty that it was over for him, knowing that, if necessary, he would act in exactly the same way again, so he parcelled it away in the place where all the other crap went. One thing John had learned over the years was how to take a positive out of every situation. It was why he so often resisted opening himself up to the 'quacks'. He just didn't need their help. Unlike Rodney, that is! He looked down the bed at the scientist, tapping away at his laptop. Yes, Rodney dealt by talking, as though by ejecting the words from his mouth, he could also expel the pain, sometimes regardless of the hurt he caused others. That was why John so often put up with angry and unpleasant words from the scientist, usually in the very situation John had so recently experienced. It was Rodney's way of dealing, just as Ronon's was the hug and forever silence and Teyla's was the Athosian soup which she insisted on bringing him, and still couldn't make. Mind you, she also had a more pleasant, if noisy, medication for him too these days, and he was still exhausted from the noisy toddler who had spent the last half-hour tearing around the infirmary.

John was halted from his reverie. 'Sir?' How are you?' Lorne was a little awkward in these situations but had been as anxious as any to check on his CO. 'Do you feel well enough to talk?'

'I'm beat up, slightly crispy and my leg hurts, but apart from that, I'm fine,' replied John with a smile. 'I was about to write up my report. Woolsey delivered my lap-top to me personally. Apparently, 'no hurry' and 'at your leisure' means 'now' and 'sod how crap you are feeling' in Woolsey speak. What do you want to know?'

'Well, it's just that..' Lorne hesitated and John nodded for him to continue, 'It is not like you to walk into an attack like that. I mean, he shot you as soon as you entered the room, according to Ronon.'

John felt some pride at Lorne's respect for his abilities. 'You know, that's what's been nagging at me. He was sitting on a chair, in the centre of the room, facing the door as though he knew we were coming. I remember the look on his face before he shot me. He knew we were coming, Evan. Not just in a 'heard you coming down the corridor' kind of way, but he really _knew_. I am certain of it.'

'Well, sir. While the evidence suggested that news about you and Doctor Adams had been spread by gossip, I am wondering now whether there is not something else happening here.'

'You mean, like a spy on Atlantis.' They had been here before, twice. Once when Bates had been convinced there was a spy among the Athosians, an event which triggered Halling into taking his people away from the city, much to John's sadness. He had formed an attachment to Halling's son, Jinto, and still visited him when he had time. The suspicion had fallen on Teyla. Later, there was the Caldwell incident, when he had been taken over by a G'ould. He knew that on neither occasion had he nor the Atlantis military covered themselves in glory.

'Yes sir, but we must also consider the possibility that there has been some kind of Genii involvement here. After all, there were Genii in Syldan's base who knew about our attack.'

'You mean Roedan and his team? Well, it is possible, I guess. Is Roedan still on The Daedelus?'

'He is. Caldwell wants to know what he should do with him and Laden has been pushing for his return.' Lorne was as concerned as Caldwell about keeping the Genii doctor so close and he had been kept under guard since he was beamed on board. 'Never trust a Genii ' had definitely become the Atlantis mantra, after many years of experiencing their duplicity. Neither man had been willing to allow Roedan access to Cat, although he had requested to see her several times.

John thought for a moment. He sincerely hoped that it was Genii information that had leaked news of the attack. On the other hand, Roedan had saved Cat's life at great risk to his own and any investigation could put the fragile alliance with Laden at risk.

'Do I have you permission to investigate, sir?'

John reluctantly agreed. 'Okay, Major. But let's be sensitive about this. Last time we went down this road, Ronan nearly killed Kavanaugh and while many might have been happy for him to succeed,' a snort from Rodney showed that he was now listening to the conversation, 'it was not out finest hour. Caldwell can handle the Roedan investigation, if he is willing to do so. Keep me informed.'

Lorne left, the unpleasant task his charge for now.

'Are we serious about this, Sheppard? I mean, we need to be sure before we start randomly accusing people of treachery. And, whatever my feelings on that obnoxious little toe-rag, I wouldn't wish torture on anyone.'

'Yes, Mckay. But I hope we've learned some lessons from the last time. Now , if you don't mind, I've a report to write and I'm sure it's well past your 'feeding time'. He grinned at his friend, who replied with a snarky comment about skinny colonels before heading off for the cafeteria. John knew that this tried and tested formula would give him the quiet he needed to concentrate on the task in hand: he could always rely upon any appeal to Rodney's stomach.

He opened his lap top and began to write his report of the last mission, careful to keep in as much detail as possible. Actually, he was quite an eloquent writer and sometimes his more elaborate reports could be pages long, much to Woolsey's surprise. Yet more proof that his 2iC was not your standard military man. An hour later, report written and the lights now dimmed in the infirmary, he fell peacefully asleep, able to put aside his 'job' worries in his usual practised way. If he allowed his 'day job', as he liked to call it, to intrude upon his rest time, he had long since realised that he wouldn't keep hold of his sanity for long. Jennifer had promised that he could return to his quarters tomorrow, if he was a 'good boy', and there was no way he would miss out on that. As he closed his eyes, he sustained himself with erotic imaginings about his wife to be, which developed into a night of vivid dreams, and it was just as well that he had recovered enough for the nurses to not take too close an interest in him that night, or at least one party might have been seriously embarrassed.

***

Jennifer was true to her word and released John the next day. He would have to walk with a crutch for a few weeks, and he still looked as though he'd been surfing for days without a sun block, but considering everything, he felt alright. He made straight for his quarters, hoping that Cat might be there, the night before so fresh in his memory that he could feel his body tingling. Unfortunately, the rooms were empty; he assumed she must have gone to work. In any case, the bed looked very inviting and the short walk had worn him out so he decided that he probably wasn't up to much anyway. Peaceful and calm for the first time in a several weeks, he snuggled under the covers and fell into a happy sleep.

Cat had plans. A welcome home that John would not forget. Once again, she had been busy on the east pier, the scene of so many of their 'encounters', not at work as he thought. Again, a table had been set, with the candelabra and two chairs. She wasn't the only one who was looking forward to his release from the infirmary and she had been puzzling over how to make it memorable, given the weakened and sore state he was in. Then, she had a brain wave. She had gone to see Amelia Banks, a surprising enthusiast for amateur theatre who had set up a small acting group, hoping that she would have the costume she was looking for in the growing Atlantis wardrobe cupboard. From the look on Amelia's face, she rather suspected that she wasn't the first person to borrow this particular outfit! When she crept into their quarters that afternoon, he was fast asleep in bed, looking so beautiful despite his reddened face that she almost crept in next to him but, resisting the temptation, left the invitation on her pillow and quietly crept out again. It had become a rather charming habit for them to formally invite each other to romantic dinners and dates, a habit which they were both determined to continue. In a world where the future is uncertain, and the present can be difficult, both felt the need to maintain the romance in their relationship. And tonight, Cat was determined to show that life could be fun and silly, and try to put some of the traumatic last few weeks away: a time when they both thought they had lost the other.

By the time John hobbled to the pier, everything was in place. He could see the table in its usual place and a figure dressed in black standing next to it, but it wasn't until he nearly reached it that he was able to take in what she was wearing and he was amused and aroused in equal measure. He allowed his gaze to rise from her black stiletto shoes, up her be-stockinged legs (he could see quite clearly the suspenders poking out from beneath her short frilly skirt), past the flouncy black and white skirt, to the little white apron with lace edges, up to the black blouse, buttons undone as far as she dared, to a smiling face, and blonde hair pushed up into a frilly maid's cap.

'Good evening, sir,' she said in her best French accent, 'would you like to sit down. Your dinner is ready.'

Cat also took a moment to peruse John. For a man who claimed not to 'care' about clothes, he always did a damn fine job of wearing them. Tonight, he was wearing her favourite blue plaid shirt, as ever undone just one button too far to show off his chest, which she knew him to be very proud of. She smiled at the escape route his shirt was taking from the jeans that skimmed slender hips. When dressed casually, he was endlessly tucking his shirt in or hitching his trousers up. She wondered if he could be totally unaware of the effect he had on the female population. John could do scruffy to perfection. He had shaved, but there was still a ghosting of shadow across his jaw-line and the dark hair, as ever, was doing its gravity defying impression. Not for the first time she marvelled at his effortless ability to look so damn sexy with so little apparent effort when it took her hours to achieve the same effect.

John was literally stunned into silence by the vision in front of him; he allowed himself to be sat down at the table and, as she pushed his chair in for him, she let her breasts gently brush the back of his neck. Cat smiled as he felt his intake of breath. Oh, yes, this was going to be fun. And, given the rather uncomfortable way he was sitting, he was enjoying it too. Walking to his side, she leant as seductively as she could manage across him, and unfolding the serviette with a flourish, placed it on his lap. A hand worked its way up her leg to where her suspenders joined her stockings.

Trying to hold back from laughing, she said huskily, 'Now, now , sir, you are supposed to be taking it easy and it is my job to serve you,' as she moved his hand from her stocking tops and guided it higher. John gasped as he realised that she was not wearing any underwear, truthfully not the first time she had managed to surprise him, though never quite like this. At the same time, she swung around and faced him, straddling his lap, taking great care not to put pressure on his bandaged leg. Oh yes, she thought, he's certainly enjoying this! His hands began to snake around her waist, and although she had intended to maintain absolute control, there were limits, and she really did love the feel of his strong arms around her. For a moment, they stilled and made smiling eye-contact, then they were kissing and she was moving her hands up inside his shirt, and caressing his wonderfully strong chest. She loved the feel of his chest and shoulders, with the power that was clearly contained within them and, pushing his plaid shirt off, she leant forward and planted sensuous kisses on his torso. It didn't take long to divest him of most of his clothes, including the pink boxers with little hearts which he had worn in honour of the evening. She, however, did not undress, and persisting with her little fantasy, showed him what she meant by serving him. And, in the hour that followed, they once again felt the powerful pleasure that had become so much a part of their love-making. The food never did get eaten, and the table was left untouched until she came back to clear up in the morning, because after she had shown him how much fun being with her could be, he took her back to their quarters and acted out some fantasies of his own. By the time morning arrived, it was just as well that he was off duty and she had taken the day off, because, for the first time in days, they could be found blissfully asleep, wrapped in each other's arms.

**TBC**

_There are still some plot-lines to resolve here,_ _before our couple can get to the 'happy ever after' stage! As aver R & R would be gratefully received, as long as any criticism is constructive!_

_p.s. I was a little restricted by my rating at the end of this chapter and I do like to be suggestive rather than obvious! Who knows, I might write a snapshot version at a higher rating. What does anyone think?_


	8. Chapter 8

_Thank to all my lovely reviewers. As ever, I take all your comments on board. This chapter will resolve some of the outstanding issues, so that we can move towards a 'happy'? ending to the story. Expect romance, adventure and a smidgeon of whump in this one..._

Cat woke up, curled tight in the comfort of John's arms. She had no idea what time it was and, quite frankly, didn't care, taking time to remember the night before. Oh my, she couldn't believe she'd done that! There had never been another man who she had opened up to, not like that, and John took her play acting the night before as the loving fun that she had intended. In fact, he had continued in the same vein, fulfilling some of his own fantasies, with much giggling and laughter, and they had only ended up in the bed to sleep, and then not until the Atlantis suns were beginning to rise. Unwilling to break the moment, and knowing that he needed all the rest he could, she tried to lean over to the alarm clock without waking him. It was after noon! John was breathing heavily onto the back of her neck and she could tell that he was very fast asleep so she regretfully, and slightly stiffly, unpeeled herself from his arms, and padded off to the shower.

She just about had the energy to turn on the shower and stand under the hot water as it ran over her, unhindered. She was tingling all over, and when she closed her eyes could still feel John's hands on her body and his hot kisses. Oh, yes, she was a very lucky girl and she vowed at that moment never to forget it. For goodness sake, she was with the most handsome man she had ever met, with the sexiest body, the most beautiful and expressive eyes, a voice that could almost literally charm the pants of anyone, and he loved her. Frozen in her daydream, she failed to hear the hobbling footsteps behind her or the sound of another body joining her in the shower.

'Good afternoon, my lovely,' he purred into her ear, as once again she felt his arms wrap around her, 'you are looking especially beautiful today.' She thrilled at the little kisses that he was planting up her spine, ending with a seductive nibble of her left ear.

She turned to face him. 'Now, shouldn't you be resting? After all, you have a gunshot wound in your leg, stitches in your head and your burns still need to heal?' John didn't seem to be listening. 'You're not going to take any notice of me are you?' she laughed, as his hands continued to rove. 'You know, you're not the only one who needs some rest and recuperation,' she persisted as she saw his wicked smile.

Oh well. She might as well give in! After all, she was only human and, as he perfectly knew, John Sheppard could be absolutely irresistible when he tried.

***

It was about time that she returned to work and Cat had begun to need the intellectual stimulation: she was certain that there was a backlog of work waiting for her in the Archive Department. A few months ago, Woolsey had finally granted her an assistant, but Alisha Wilson was still relatively untrained and Cat knew that all the more puzzling items would have been left for her to identify and catalogue. She supposed beggars couldn't be choosers, but she would have really liked a more experienced person to help her. Alisha's knowledge of Ancient was sketchy to say the least. And, given Cat's sociable personality, it was hard not having someone to laugh and joke with. Alisha had completely failed to find any of Cat's jokes funny; in fact, Cat didn't think that she had ever come across such a humourless and soulless individual. Still, she was efficient enough, had eased the burden of the more mundane tasks and, recently, had even been off-world collecting items for the archive.

When she arrived at her office that afternoon, Alisha was hard at work, sitting at Cat's desk and entering items onto the computer system. Cat hadn't yet really scratched beneath the surface of this strange young woman, who barely spoke, and greeted her with a nod as though she had never been away, silently moving back to her own desk. In all ways, Alisha was the complete opposite of Cat: dowdy, quiet and painfully shy, she shut herself away down in the archives. She also had a tendency to work at night and Cat had jokingly commented to John that she might be 'a creature of the dark'. I mean, that would explain why she had never seen her eating and the rather pallid complexion!

Still, she would persist with her and Cat was the kind of person who always gave people the benefit of the doubt. 'Hello, Alisha. How are you? What tantalizing new finds do we have today?'

Alisha almost grunted her response. 'Not much. I left those,' and pointing to the two large boxes next to Cat's desk, went back to her work.

Cat sighed, looked at her watch and sustained herself with counting down the hours until she next saw John. Once all this nonsense was over, they could also begin planning their wedding and she allowed herself to become just a little excited about the prospect, for the first time in days.

***

Woolsey left his second in command to recover until that afternoon. Once again, the man's bravery and courage had amazed him, as had his implacable determination when preserving the lives of friends and colleagues. Still, there was unpleasant business to attend to, and he needed John to lead the investigation. It wasn't that he didn't trust Lorne, it was just that this one needed handling in a uniquely 'Sheppard' way. It was quite possible that some of his precious protocols might have to be broken again, and he believed in John enough to know that he would have the necessary experience and judgement to know which ones and when.

John met Woolsey at their regular pm briefing time of 2:30. One of the most, and paradoxically the least, of Richard Woolsey's annoying characteristics, was his need for habit and regularity and this was yet another area where the two men found common ground: the military man in John appreciated consistency and routine. They were here to discuss Lorne and Caldwell's progress in the investigations and to plot a way forward.

'Well, Colonel Caldwell has completed his interviews with Doctor Roedan and he is convinced that the Doctor is not our informant. The man is intensely loyal to Laden, and Caldwell is certain that his rescue of Doctor Adams, and several others of Syldan's unfortunate victims, was a genuine desire from a dedicated doctor to prevent the suffering of others. He is also a proven adversary of both Cowan and Kolya, refusing to join the latter in his attempt to overthrow Laden. Laden has investigated from his end, and as far as we can trust him ,which for now I think we should, is also firmly convinced about Roedan's loyalty and good character. So, that leaves us with the rather unfortunate knowledge that the informant is someone here on Atlantis.'

John paused for a moment. The mention of Cat's imprisonment brought back unpleasant memories, not least of her execution that had burned into his head like an image on a negative, but he was grateful that her saviour had proved to be a decent man. Sometime soon, she may even be able to personally thank him. 'Okay, so what progress has Lorne made so far?'

'Lorne has produced a list of names, based on a range of criteria. Firstly, all those who have been off-world in the last six months; secondly, and with Laden's assistance, this was cross-matched with planets where the Genii have any influence, whether in trade or otherwise, including any known insurgent factions; and finally, all those who have been in Atlantis for six months or less. Amelia Banks is also checking through personnel records for inconsistencies or possible omissions. We did think about adding into the mix anyone who knows that you and Doctor Adams are to be married, but since it's been the talk of the base for weeks, we thought that would not be especially helpful.' Woolsey allowed himself a small smile at his joke and John smiled back: he was beginning to like the man and his slightly caustic sense of humour. 'We now have a short-list of ten names.' Woolsey held out a piece of paper.

'I hate this,' grumbled John. 'At least nine of these people are totally innocent, if not all, and we have to treat them all as though they are guilty. At least this time we are not so much on the clock. The last time, we very nearly had to resort to methods which we'd never normally consider. I don't think Elizabeth ever really recovered from the memory of making that decision.'

John read down the list. There was an air-force lieutenant called Sykes, a good pilot and a decent family man; Captain Tomas of the marines, who had been with them on their recent mission; two younger soldiers, both fairly green behind the ears; a couple of biologists, and a physicist called Polanski who was working with Rodney; a male nurse called Filipovic, who had caused quite a stir among the female population, especially the marines who seemed to be spending way more time in the infirmary than usual; the new Atlantis barman Harry Burt, whose single off-world experience was on a trade mission to a planet where good food and wine were particularly enjoyed; and, John paused as he read the final name. 'Oh, so not good,' he said out loud.

***

She supposed it was because she'd started work so late that she hadn't realised the time. Damn it! She had missed dinner in the cafeteria; she really wasn't good at missing meal times and, though nowhere near as bad as Rodney, she could feel a bad temper coming on. At some point, Alisha must have left too because her brooding and gloomy presence was absent from her usual corner. Briefly disappointed that John had not checked on her, she remembered that he was back at work today and knew that he had to face the prospect of an informer on Atlantis. The thought made her very uncomfortable. I mean, whoever they were, they must have had no qualms about what had happened to either her or John; she hadn't really considered the full ramifications until now. This person was probably dangerous, possibly with a personal grudge against John.

The only light showing came from her desk lamp and from the pale blue lights that dimly shone from the door mechanisms, otherwise there were deep pools of darkness around her; she was suddenly very nervous about being here alone. The city had its own noises: sometimes even from down here she could hear the distant sound of the waves crashing against the outer walls, or the wind blowing around the towers. 'Rodney's drainage pipes', as she liked to think of them after his persistent and frustrated failure at repairs, occasionally made eerie gurgling noises and there was, all over the city, a constant sound of water running. For those like John and her, with a strong ATA gene, there was also a pleasing hum which was sometimes tuneful, given off by the heart of the city. But this evening, none of this calmed her, and she began to imagine other noises behind her.

***

Woolsey and John decided that the best time to start the interviews was as soon as possible, trying to prioritise who to see first. The danger being that if they left the wrong person to last, that person may get wind of what was going on and do something that could place Atlantis in danger (and, Cat, John had silently thought). John agreed to talk to Rodney, Keller and Chief Johnson, as appropriate heads of department.

He visited Jennifer first. Novak Filipovic had become a pivotal part of the infirmary and she was convinced about his reliability. She was also able to confirm that the one time he had been off-world he had stayed by her side for the whole time, assisting with a rather nasty leg injury suffered by a marine. Maria Johnson, as manager of catering, was line manager for Harry Burt, the extravagant and eccentric new head barman, who had a penchant for creating cocktails in the name of Atlantis' personnel. The 'John Sheppard' was a tall glass, containing a potent mix of blue Curacao, blue Geneva Gin, crushed ice and topped off with two red cherries, the inspiration for which John hadn't wanted to investigate too deeply! Maria had a bit of a crush on John and would have done anything for him, if he would but ask. A large woman, with forearms the size of other people's legs, she could be intimidating, but often collapsed into a mess of quivering jelly when he was around. Consequently, she was just about able to convince him that Harry was not a likely candidate given his state of inebriation when at the off-world festivities, before collapsing into fits of girly giggles, quite unbecoming for a woman of her age.

Sighing, John headed towards Rodney's lab, having mentally ticked off two likely candidates from the list. Rodney's appraisal of his staff was likely to be much less effusive than Keller's or Johnson's, never one to think too highly of anyone but himself. His idea of praise in a performance review usually contained the words 'satisfactory' and 'average': the only 'excellent' scientist in his view was the one doing the reviewing! Rodney was bent over his laptop, as ever engrossed in his latest project, allowing John to play his usual game of 'how soon will he notice I'm here'. In his head, he held a virtual sweepstake and today he randomly decided on two minutes. His record was fifteen, but then Rodney had been wearing his earplugs at the time, blocking out Zelenka's endless tittle-tattle.

'I know you're there you know,' said Rodney, 'I don't think the crutch and the hobble is helping your military 'creep up on others' skills today!'

'Yeh, but I've been here 5 minutes, Mckay,' snarked back John.

'Oh really, well I ...Oh, got me again.'

John smiled. It never got old! 'Mckay, could you put that laptop down a minute. I need to talk to you about something.'

'Okay, what is it? More romantic advice? Marriage guidance?'

'Oh ha, ha, very funny. No, this is serious. It's about Polanski and your two newest biologists. Lorne had identified them as possible suspects. I wondered what your views on them are? Are any of them likely candidates?'

Rodney grimaced. John knew that, despite his hard and cynical exterior, there was a gentle man underneath who hated all this as much as he did. As with the other department heads, Rodney was convinced that the three scientists were not likely suspects. Polanski, he said, was a strange and difficult man, but so 'geekish' that he out-geeked anyone Rodney had ever met, and found it difficult to make any kind of coherent conversation, unless discussing quarks or quantum physics. The other two were quiet and introspective, and had made a good impression on him since they arrived. Above all, he doubted if any had even cottoned onto the Atlantis gossip machine and, if they had, they didn't seem to give a damn. No, he was as certain as he could be, as certain that one day someone would deck Kavanaugh for being an irritating and pedantic son-of-a-bitch.

***

She was sure now. There was something or someone in the shadows. John would have called it 'spidey sense'; to her it felt like Atlantis was warning her about something. Wishing she had a gun (damn it John had tried to persuade her to keep one in her desk) she grabbed the nearest Ancient artefact, a curious- looking statuette which she could only assume was some kind of fertility symbol given the shape of the huge protuberance that was larger than the figure itself, and pushed her chair back as quietly as she could. She gave a nervous little silent laugh at herself, for her one-track mind.

Yes, that was definitely a footstep in the shadows. The gentle creek of a soft shoe on the shiny floor and the slight rustle of stiff fabric. Cat stepped as far back towards the rear wall as she could, not really certain whether having her back to the literal wall were the best idea, but also not willing to move in the direction of the anonymous noises. A shadow moved forward and the silhouette of a figure began to form out of the gloom. As the apparition took more shape, the first thing to appear was a hand holding a wide-barrelled gun, and it was pointing at her head. The body behind moved out of the darkness, and a familiar face appeared.

'You!' Cat shouted.

***

This was taking too long. John had a bad feeling, and his bad feelings were usually correct. That last name on Lorne's list had been nagging away at him. Okay, Woolsey might have a go at him for not following procedure, but experience was telling him to act quickly. Lorne had Tomas and the other military suspects locked up in their quarters and under guard; they might not be happy about it, but they would at least understood that the precaution was necessary.

He tapped his radio. 'Chuck, I want a secure channel for military, Mr Woolsey and my team only. Now.'

'Understood, sir.' Chuck responded without question. 'It's done.'

'Ronon, Teyla, Mckay, to the control room immediately. Lorne, a team of four marines up here too. Mr Woolsey, please report to your office. Banks, anything wrong shown up on the personnel files yet?' John fired off a series of commands, to a chorus of 'understood', 'what now? Oh alright', yes, sir', 'on my way Colonel' and 'I might have sir.'

The team gathered in Woolsey's office and commands were given quickly, all clear that this was essentially a capture mission, but that reasonable force was to be used if necessary. Piecing together the information from Banks with the other evidence, one name had stood out, someone who had been so far under the radar as to have been totally undetectable unless you knew where to look.

***

'You!'

A small, pale face appeared out of the gloom. 'Yes, me,' sneered Alisha. 'It seems that my time is running out here, so I have decided to take you with me.' Cat heard the click of the safety lock.

'Why? Just tell me why? I deserve that at least, if you're going to kill me.' She tried to keep her voice steady.

'My name is Persea Kolya. I can see from your face that you recognise that name. Augustus Kolya was my uncle and your death will atone for his,' sneered the other woman.

***

The team hurtled along the corridor towards the archive rooms. John briefly forgot about his damaged leg, the adrenaline pumping through his veins, until he felt a sharp stab of pain in his thigh and the unmistakable sticky wetness of blood soaking through his trousers. 'Damn, Keller is going to be pissed.' By the time they arrived, just a short corridor away, he knew that he was in trouble and briefly leant against the wall for support. Ronon glanced at him, the knowing look of a friend and colleague, and John nodded back, shorthand for 'not really, but I can manage.'

From their vantage point, they could hear two voices from the archives, and John recognised Cat. If what they suspected was true, they had to move now.

***

Cat shut her eyes. She heard a shot, then shouting and other gunshots and yet she was still standing. There was a moment of silence, acrid smoke filling the air, then strong arms were around her and she was looking into John's face, his relief clear for her to see. Briefly, he took in the well-endowed statuette she was still clutching and raised a wry eyebrow, but his face was ashen and there were dark shadows under his eyes. Then, she was holding him, as his legs gave out and he collapsed to the floor, a pool of blood immediately forming by his left leg.

_Hope you like it. Please R & R. All constructive comments welcome! A little bit of a tidying up chapter, really, before I can get back to a little more whump, more body and maybe, if you ask nicely, some blue uniform and medals!_


	9. Chapter 9

_Thanks as ever for all your lovely reviews and comments. Here is the final chapter of this story, though not necessarily of the John/Cat one. Hope you like it. Body, TLC and minor whumpage here._

Cat watched the sleeping man. Given all he had been through the last few days, let alone years, he looked remarkably peaceful; the only outward signs of damage the still slightly reddened and marked face and the monitors beeping gently above the bed. He was right: Keller had been really pissed. Her carefully placed stitches had all ripped as he ran desperately to save Cat and he had lost a lot of blood, resulting in more surgery and another blood transfusion. She admitted last night that she kept extra blood in the fridge, just for him: the best piece of advice that Carson had given her about caring for the trouble magnet that was John Sheppard. This time, however, there was no panic, no resuscitation and no desperate team clustered anxiously around his bed.

Tucking in her knees behind her arms, she occupied herself by closely perusing his profile. It was curious how different his right side was to his left. The right was possibly more beautiful, with the precisely defined sweep of his long nose, the strong jaw-line, with the almost delicate heart-shaped chin, the soft curve of his full lips and the sweep of hair over his, in rest unfurrowed, brow, like a wave at the point of breaking. The left side was somehow more vulnerable, with the crow's feet around his eye more obvious and the cheek bone slightly less defined. She pondered on a face and how it tells the story of one's life and character. His certainly showed it all, if you cared to look: the strength and determination on the right side as opposed to the softness of the left which revealed John's inner insecurities and susceptibilities. The lines around his eyes were the only evidence of the traumas of the last few years, but they also showed the capacity for great humour and humanity and he was increasingly impossible to age. The last batch of military recruits had tried to bet on it, and they came up with estimates ranging from as low as 32 to as high as 47. She rather suspected that it was the youngest who came up with the higher estimate, judging their new commander on the power of his presence, his charisma and his reputation, and maybe, just maybe on the evidence of a few wispy grey hairs that speckled his right side-burn and, curiously, a little fringe at the nape of his neck, most visible when his hair was newly cut.

And, my word, did the man suit white: his dark hair against the white pillowcase; his white-scrubs showing off his tanned body; and the dark hairs on his chest, showing a little more than he would normally allow. In rest, John had an almost ethereal beauty, unmarred by the frowns that often crossed his brow when awake. Carried away by her musings, she leant over and kissed him gently on the lips, imagining herself the fairy-tale princess waking her prince charming.

To her surprise, he opened one bleary eye, his right one she noted, and said, 'what the hell happened this time?'

***

John spent a grumpy and restless three days in the infirmary. Keller was relieved. A restless and fractious Colonel Sheppard was at least half way to recovery and was a lot better than the rather compliant one that had been with them after the explosion. Perhaps things would at last begin to get back to normal.

Before normality could be resumed, there were a couple of loose ends to tie up: Persea Kolya and Doctor Roedan, though for distinctly differing reasons. Woolsey and Lorne interrogated the young Genii.

'How did you manage to get past Atlantis' security Miss Kolya?' Woolsey had asked. 'At what point did you take the identity of Alisha Wilson? I don't understand how you could have done so. Miss Wilson came with excellent references from Stargate Command, must have had some friends or people who could recognise her, and yet you got away with the pretence for six months.'

Alisha Wilson, the real one, had been in the contingent of new recruits who arrived on The Daedelus six months ago. When she went off-world to MX-3212, she was spotted by a Genii spy as having a remarkable similarity to Persea Kolya. It didn't take much to plan the replacement, since the small group of archaeologists and scientists were due to remain on the planet for a week, investigating the historical remains that were unique to it. Yes, she admitted, it had been a risk, but fortunately Alisha was such a quiet and unpopular member of the expedition, that nobody really gave her a second look. Persea made certain that, once back on Atlantis, she avoided public gatherings or well-lit locations, which explained why she spent so much time in the bowels of the Archive Department and why she seemed so unsociable. She passed messages back to the Genii on the few occasions that she went back off-world. It only took twice: once to report John and Cat's marriage plans, and Cat's near fatal trip to the Pegasus version of Stonehenge, which she of course knew all about as her assistant; once to report the mission to rescue Cat. It had been assumed that she could be trusted and as Cat's assistant, she'd been kept apprised of the plans. Revenge was her one and only motive and it quickly became clear that this dish would always be served cold. She was due to leave with The Daedelus on its next call-by, and Woolsey doubted that they would ever hear from her again. Sadly, he would have to send yet another letter of condolence home for the real Alisha Wilson, whose body they would now never find.

The other matter of business was much more pleasurable for all. Doctor Roedan was delighted to finally meet Cat: he was so seldom able to look in the eyes of those he saved and it gave him great pleasure. She, in kind, was more grateful than words could express and, when John was better, he too thanked the good doctor, with much emotion. Here, indeed, was an ally and a possible friend, and John and Cat talked about inviting him to the wedding. It was a risk, he was after all a Genii, but somehow all concerned knew that this could be the beginning of a greater degree of trust between the two most influential military groups in the Pegasus Galaxy.

***

The wedding was fast approaching. As with all weddings, it had snowballed into a much bigger event than either really had anticipated or wanted. There were to be two ceremonies: one, more formal, on Atlantis, and the other an Athosian Joining Ceremony, which Teyla had offered but had been worryingly cagey about, taking place the day afterwards. John said not to worry, that he was sure it was something to do with wild parties and celebrations, if he knew the Athosians at all. He was much more worried about the ceremony on Atlantis. So far, there were 100 guests invited, or who had invited themselves, including General Jack O'Neill and Mr Coolidge, the new head of the IOA. John was never comfortable with the top brass or formal military proceedings. In fact, the only times recently that he had worn his blue uniform was for Cat's remembrance service and for Carson's funeral. As well, Ronon and Rodney had been planning his bachelor party: the combined brains and cunning of those two were likely to be a dangerous combination and John only hoped that being left drunk, naked and tied to the basket-ball net on the West Pier was not part of the deal. Now, those photographs could reach a considerable sum on the Atlantis black market!

Woolsey insisted that any pre-wedding parties should take place some-time before the eve of the wedding when a host of important guests and a formal gathering had been organised. John was not happy, but any objections were cut off by Woolsey who politely reminded him that as military commander of Atlantis, he had an important position to maintain: that this was an opportunity for the IOA, Stargate Command and the population of the city to recognise the important role John had played in the success of the Atlantis expedition, and to formally celebrate the success of the city more generally. So, reluctantly John gave in and decided to look forward to the moments when he and Cat could be alone, although he did head off to the bar to have a chat with Harry Burt. Harry Burt's penchant for creating 'named' cocktails might be better saved for a less formal occasion, but John couldn't wait to see the look on Coolidge's face when he was served a 'Woolsey'!

Cat was excited and nervous in equal measure, so she threw herself into organising things. Teyla had been as easy choice as matron of honour and, though Earth traditions took quite some explaining, she was duly gratified with the idea of representing 'honour' though much less happy when she found out what 'matron' meant. She was even less happy when she discovered the Earth tradition that the best-man should kiss her, given that the John's best-man was to be Rodney. It had been a difficult choice and John had spent many tortuous hours trying to decide between him and Ronon. It wasn't easy. If he chose Ronon, Rodney would probably never forgive him and he had already written his speech in anticipation. If he chose Rodney, then Ronon would probably kill him and then kill Rodney! In the end he decided that Rodney should be best-man and Ronon 'Gentleman of Honour', hoping that he wouldn't find out that the role didn't exist. John gave Ronon the 'honourable' responsibility of being his protector for the day, and in truth he deserved the title on most days anyway.

Over the last few days, both Cat and John had caught various members of the 'team' and some others in secret conversations. John walked in on Rodney and Ronon whispering in the corner of the lab, which was laughably out of character, but they apparently were talking about 'nothing'. Cat had a similar encounter with Teyla and Katie. 'Planning our girl's night' was all she got out of them. The bachelor and hen parties had been set for three nights before the wedding and as far as the less than happy couple could tell, there were serious plans afoot. They did their best to take their minds off the next few days in the best way they knew: by hiding away in their quarters and entertaining more of their 'fantasies', though John made sure that he held a few back for after the wedding!

On the night of the party, each had been given a location for the 'secret' rendezvous. Cat met her friends on blustery west pier. Teyla had been genuinely worried about how her friend might react to what they were about to do given her recent experiences, so she quietly explained to Cat how she would be blindfolded, just to hide the location of the 'party', but that she should not be concerned because there was no way they would harm her. Cat grudgingly acquiesced and was led carefully to a waiting jumper. She was fairly certain that she had gated off-world. John suffered a similar fate. He had waited in Katie's lab. Mind you, his capture was not quite so easy and in the end Ronon had to stun him to avoid anyone getting more seriously hurt. As they carried John to the waiting puddle jumper, he could be heard chortling under his breath, 'never gets old.'

Cat was vaguely aware of being guided over rough terrain and was fairly certain she was under canvas, from the smells , and the sound of the tent opening flapping in the breeze, then her blindfold was removed. Yes, definitely a tent and, by the looks of it, definitely Athosian. She recognised the hand sewn multi-coloured quilts heaped over the mattress in the corner.

Teyla, Katie and Jennifer were all there, smiling at her. Teyla was holding a beautiful green and gold Athosian dress, with flowers and leaves embroidered into the flowing and, in places quite diaphanous, skirt and bodice.

'This is your Athosian joining dress, Cat. We thought that you and John deserved a special celebration of your joining before the one that is to happen on the city. We convinced you that it would happen afterwards, so that you would not suspect our plans. Now, you need to put on this dress and I will explain everything.'

***

The Athosians had really gone to town. The largest tent was bedecked with flowers in as many colours and shapes as the Pegasus Galaxy could provide. In the middle of the crowd stood a silent John, watching her with appreciative eyes. Athosian music and a powerful musky perfume swirled around her, making her senses tingle to the point where smell and sound became indistinguishable, as she was moved towards him by some unfelt pressure. Their eyes had locked from a distance and she could not break the contact: an invisible silky cord along which seemed to throb powerful and passionate promises; the erotic charge was electric. They were almost close enough to touch, but somehow the bodies around them kept them apart. He was indeed a vision in white: a soft button less shirt hung loosely around his slim hips, which made her long for the feel of the warm skin beneath, a deep v at the neck showing off a hint of a firm and tanned chest, with a pair of silky trousers, hanging suggestively over his bottom half, somehow accentuating all his best parts.

The song finished and the crowd hushed. Invisible hands wound flowery garlands around their waists, joining them in an aromatic ring, and then Teyla moved forward and joined their hands together.

'Under the eyes of The Ancestors, we are here to witness the joining of two of their favourite children, John Sheppard, friend and saviour of our people and Catherine Adams, friend and saviour of John Sheppard.' A smile quirked across Teyla's lips and she winked in John' direction. 'Once joined, they are bonded by the strength of their love and devotion, never to be parted, always united in a shared life.' As she finished, ethereal music began, seemingly from all around them, firstly slow and quiet, but almost imperceptibly building and building to a crescendo. The perfume in the air seemed to increase its intensity also, and the couple began to sway and move, still bound by the flowers. Cat caught a glimpse of Rodney and Ronon, smiling in their direction, before a double handed goblet of honey coloured liquid was placed in her and John's hands. A shout rose, 'drink to the joining of John and Catherine', and an answering shout of, 'to the joining' before she and John shared a drink from the cup. Whatever the liquid was, it seemed to warm her from the inside out, and she became light-headed but at the same time the whole of her focus was on John. She could neither see nor feel anything else: it was as though he was inside of her, a part of her, just as the music and the delicious musky aroma was too.

Again, they were moved, but this time Cat had no real sense of where or how, but was briefly aware of the coolness of the night air, then a silence as she and John were finally alone. This tent was also filled with the same flowers, aromatic candles and incense burners and the same multi-coloured cushions and quilts as before. They still didn't talk, they didn't need to. Somehow the magic, the music and the drink sharpened all their senses, while surrounding them in an erotically charged haze, and when they kissed, their passions erupted like a long dormant volcano. John found parts of her body to kiss that she didn't know she had, and she returned the favour, as they fell back into the sensuous silky bedding. All they could feel was flesh against flesh, flesh touching flesh, flesh inside flesh. Neither could believe it was possible to find new levels of passion in their already passionate relationship, nor could they believe how long and how frequent their lovemaking was that night.

As she woke, Cat became aware of the sensations in her body first, before she opened her eyes. She was blissfully content and her skin felt like it sparkled from within. She was also a strange combination of comfortably hot and skin tinglingly cold. Hmm, she was definitely uncovered, though she could feel the tangle of silk sheets knotted around her left leg, so where was the warmth coming from? A pair of beautiful, deep hazel eyes met hers when she finally decided to open them; she was warm because she had another cover than the sheets and quilts. John's body was pressed tightly against hers, and was certainly the best-looking duvet she had ever woken up to! His smooth, firm skin pressed against her already aroused body sparked tiny electric charges and it was clear from the feel of him against her, and the dark pooling of his pupils, that he was feeling the same way.

'Good morning, madam. You know, when Rodney and Ronon were planning my bachelor party, I had no idea that the woman they would find for me would be quite so amazing,' he smiled, as he leant forward the last few centimetres to kiss her.

When she recovered her breath, she replied, 'Well, sir, I'm pleased that I met to your satisfaction, though it might not be a good idea to tell your wife-to-be about me. She might not be too happy to know that you spent your last night away from her in my arms! I certainly hope I haven't spoiled you for her!'

His eyes twinkled with pleasure. 'I think that would be wise. However, do you think that there is a chance we may meet again? It would be a shame not to have a repeat performance, don't you think?'

'In my business, anything is possible, sir. Now, we have a little time before the party's over so I suggest you make best use of my time.' The look on his face told her everything she needed to know, quickly followed by the feel of his mouth and his hands, then his whole body. Oh, yes, this was a game they would definitely play again, and she mentally added it to the list.

***

The formal party on the eve of the wedding was as awkward as John had imagined and could not have formed a greater contrast to the previous night. He has resisted Woolsey's request that he should wear his blue formal uniform, on the basis that it was to be his wedding suit, and instead wore his leather jacket over his usual BDUs. Woolsey was desperate to impress, and singularly failed to do so. Several Atlantis personnel were misnamed in introductions and Harry Burt was not at all pleased to be called Henry Berk, quickly vowing to get his own back. The 'Woolsey' was tweaked slightly. Now, it was a combination of cheap whisky and an unrecognisable and rather course orange liqueur, the whole served in a stubby little glass, with a slice of lemon. He offered it to all and sundry as the night's 'special'. Jack O'Neill was clearly enjoying the spectacle and even drank several in honour of the barman's nerve. Cat watched from a short distance as The General and John chatted. It was clear that they had a lot in common, both were pilots and both had a wicked sense of humour, though there were moments when she sensed a more sombre serious tone to their conversation, and she could have sworn that she saw annoyance flash across John's features at one point. She asked him about it afterwards and he dismissed it as nothing, just a mistake on his part about a joke O'Neill had made.

What made the evening bearable for both Cat and John was the company of their good friends, their Atlantis family, and the presence of Doctor Roedan, which the IOA had finally granted. When the evening finally drew to a close and the various dignitaries had been escorted to their quarters, the friends remained at the bar, talking and laughing until the early hours, trying as many of Harry's creations as they could without being ill. Harry had promised a 'special' in honour of the wedding, but was not about to reveal it until the following day. Eventually, Rodney and Kate disappeared, Rodney concerned about his best man's speech, followed by Teyla and Ronon, then Thaddeus Roedan, leaving John and Cat to kiss and part ways, he returning reluctantly to his old quarters for one night only.

I do not need to dwell too much on the wedding itself, good reader, because you already know all the details. Just let me tell you that the groom wore a perfectly tailored air-force blue jacket, bedecked with more medals and ribbons than Cat had imagined possible, with a crisp white shirt setting off his tanned handsome face. The stiff blue trousers showed his long legs to their best, and his black shoes shone with military precision. The General had quietly procured a new hat (if you remember the other was thrown off the end of the east pier, into the sea), which John left on the Atlantis bar as soon as he could. The bride wore a soft, cream satin dress, which skimmed her curves in a way that she knew her husband would appreciate. The best man's speech was acerbic and witty and the two friends of 'honour' protected their charges adequately through the day, helping them to escape to their quarters early in the evening. And the Harry Burt special? The 'Cat Sheppard': a sensuous combination of rum, coconut and pineapple juice, in a curvy glass, with crushed ice and a sparkling sugar rim.

Back in their quarters and finally alone, Cat fulfilled a long held promise to herself, if she ever managed to get his man into his dress uniform. She sat him down, put some Johnny Cash on, then danced herself out of her dress in front of him, before undressing him slowly, one stiff button at a time, while sitting stark naked on his lap. If this were to set the tone for the rest of her marriage, then she was going to be a very happy wife indeed.

THE END (for now)

_Ok, that's it folks, for this story anyway, although I've lots more ideas in my head. If you want more, please R and R, you know how much I appreciate it!_


End file.
